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HILL 7 




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Second Lieutenant George Elliot Shipley 
Killed in action in the Battle of the Argonne 



V 


HILL 7 

A LIFE SKETCH OF 

GEORGE ELLIOTT SHIPLEY 


BY 

fArj , MAUD SHIPLEY LEACH 


PRIVATELY PRINTED BY 

Willett, Clark & Company 

NEW YORK 


1935 



CHICAGO 





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Copyright 1935 by 
MAUD SHIPLEY LEACH 


Manufactured in The U.S.A. by The Plimpton Press 
Norwood, Mass.-LaPorte, Ind. 


* 


©cfA 


S 6 i74 d 

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JUN 2K 1936 




MUC 


THIS STORY IS AFFECTIONATELY 
DEDICATED TO MY HUSBAND 
FERRY WILLIAM LEACH 
WHOSE KIND ENCOURAGEMENT 
HAS BEEN A REAL INSPIRATION 
IN PREPARING THIS LIFE SKETCH 
OF MY BROTHER 




- 




' 












* 













'. •; B 















ACKNOWLEDGMENTS 


Thanks are due to Colonel Lawrence H. Whiting 
of Chicago for information from the front in France 
regarding our brother; to Mrs. J. D. Waller and Miss 
Helen Smith of Chicago for pictures; to Mr. Paul 
Strayer of River Forest for a picture and a map; to 
my sister, Mrs. Harry Henderson of Evanston, for the 
chronological arrangement of our brother’s letters; 
to Mrs. Elizabeth Craig Haines of Chicago for a li¬ 
brary reference; and to Miss Mary Herron of Oak 
Park for a picture. 


7 

















































CONTENTS 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
PRONUNCIATIONS “ JUST A WORD ” 
AN EXPLANATION INTRODUCTION 

SEVEN HILLS 


Part One 


HILL 1.29 

A HOUSE TOP IN OLD DETROIT 

HILL 2.41 

A SAND DUNE IN MICHIGAN 

HILL 3.61 

HAPPY HILL AT DARTMOUTH 

HILL 4.77 

PIKE’S PEAK 

HILL 5.113 

ARLINGTON 

HILL 6.147 

LANGRES 

9 









CONTENTS 

HILL 7.185 

MONTFAUCON 

Part Two 

CHAPTER I.285 

MY OWN REFLECTIONS UPON WAR 

CHAPTER II.295 

MEMORIAL SERMON BY DR. JOHN M. 

VANDER MEULEN 

CHAPTER III.313 

HEROES ALL 

CHAPTER IV.331 

SEVEN SHORT STORIES 

CHAPTER V.351 

TREASURED LETTERS 

CHAPTER VI.371 

TRIBUTES 

THE LAST WORD.374 

INDEX.375 

BIBLIOGRAPHY. .379 


10 













LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

Lieutenant George Elliott Shipley Frontispiece 
Chart from Thomas’ History of the A . E . F . 14 
Hill 1— A House Top in Old Detroit . 28 
Middleham Castle, Yorkshire, England . 33 

Hill 2 — “Old Baldy,” in Michigan . . 41 

Hill 3 — “ Happy Hill,” Hanover, N. H. . 61 

George Shipley Crouched for a Race . . 66 

Hill 4 — Pike’s Peak.77 

Hill 5 — Arlington.113 

The Rack Railway Leading up to Langres 148 
Cover of “ The Guide to Langres ” . . 167 

Hill 7 — Montfaucon.185 

The Town Hall of Souilly.199 

Cornell University Student Unit . . . 210 

From Langres to Sedan.232 

Diagram Drawn by Lieutenant Lightbody 281 

Lieutenant Shipley’s Grave.285 

Chaplain J. Austen Lord.331 

Ruins of Nantillois.336 

S. S. Lutetia.339 

French Peasants Making Garden . . . 367 

The French Tribute.374 











PRONUNCIATIONS 


Langres .. . 
Souilly .... 
Bar-le-Duc . 
Montfaucon 
Nantillois .. 
Varennes . . 
Romagne . . 

Foch. 

Petain. 

Vaux. 

Saint Mihiel 


Lawngr’ 

Sooyee 

Bar P duke 

Mo-fo-co 

Nan-tee-wa 

Varen 

Romayne 

Fosh 

Petan 

Vo 

San-mi-yel 













“ JUST A WORD ” 

During the years that have passed since the death of 
Lieutenant Shipley, there have come to us so many 
letters, messages, records and clippings that their ac¬ 
cumulation suggested preservation in the form of a 
book, and accordingly this story was begun. The fol¬ 
lowing lines, written as a foreword, were inspired by 
a sentence from the London Times: “ The states¬ 
man who did not keep us out of war should be im¬ 
peached.” 

If I may help one youth of note 
Say “ No,” to war, again and again, 

As hours are his when he may vote, 

I shall not have written or — lived in vain. 

If I may help one mother proclaim 

The Truth to children again and again, 

Christ Jesus the Name above every name, 

I shall not have written or — lived in vain. 

M. S. L. 


13 


THE HILL 


The naked summit of a far-off hill. 

Beyond the limits that my feet had trod. 

Was like an invitation into space — boundless 
Or guide into Eternity. 

AUTHOR UNKNOWN 

THE BLACKEST TWO WEEKS 


AOGOnnt 



ru tv« wr may jun jm sen xt n* otc 

-^- 1 - 1 - 


WEEKLY CASUALTY REPORTS 


14 












This chart from Thomas’ History of the A.E.F. 
shows at its highest peaks, the blackest period of 
American participation in the World War, the two 
weeks from September 26 to October 11 , 1918 . 
These were the two weeks that Lieutenant Shipley 
spent in the firing line, and the chart therefore reveals 
our Hill 7 as being also the peak of the total war 
casualties. For it was on September 26 that Lieu¬ 
tenant Shipley reported at Souilly, 5 th Army Corps 
Headquarters before going from Souilly to the front 
with the 79 th Division; and just fourteen days 
elapsed between his leaving Souilly and his death, 
on October 11 . 

Surmounting difficult hills had been an outstand¬ 
ing feature of his young life, and George had particu¬ 
larly loved a mountain climb to view the sunrise. 
On Montfaucon, at the topmost point of the Ameri¬ 
can casualties, he again found himself on a summit 
in the darkest hour just before a dawn. He died at 
the village of Nantillois, having led his men to their 
objective. Not far distant lay another small village, 
Sedan. In Sedan, a month later to a day, the Armis¬ 
tice was signed, and that dawn broke for which he 
had made his last climb. 


15 


AN INTRODUCTION 


MY BROTHER 

Where e'er I roam, 
Whatever realms to see, 

My heart untraveled. 
Fondly turns to thee; 

Still to my brother turns, 
With ceaseless pain, 

And drags at each remove, 
A lengthening chain . 


GOLDSMITH 


A celebrated Londoner, owner of leading London 
newspapers, was making a world tour, and while 
walking with a friend down a lonely coast, he said: 
“ It is my conviction that every human soul has a 
story, one at least, to write/’ As he made this state¬ 
ment, a man was seen approaching them, the light¬ 
house keeper on this coast. When the man drew 
near, Lord Northcliffe addressed him thus: “ Friend, 
I believe everyone has a story to tell; have you one? ” 
“ Yes,” answered the man, “ I saw the ship, the Em¬ 
press of India, go down off this shore.” 

I have a story to relate, the life of my young 
brother. Though I possess small knowledge of let¬ 
ters and no graces of rhetoric, and the telling of it 
must be in a crude fashion or, as Emerson said, 

*7 



HILL 7 


“ dwarfishly and fragmentarily,” still I feel it must 
be told. So, for this story, this “raw material of a 
story,” I beg the indulgence of my readers (friends 
and family) and trust that, now it has been launched, 
it may sail out upon friendly seas and touch only at 
those ports which will welcome it with sympathetic 
interest. 

That George himself would approve this account 
of his own record seems certain for the following 
reason. He was always deeply interested in those 
pages of his family history which told of the heroic 
and faithful service of his great-grandfather, Henry 
Shipley, in the American Revolutionary War. 
Henry Shipley fought in several important battles 
and served the dreary winter with Washington and 
his ragamuffins at Valley Forge. 

When in January, 1918 , the news of George’s 
death came to us in Chicago, we received a letter 
from a friend who had known him very well, read¬ 
ing thus: 

Well do I remember George sitting before the grate fire, 
reading the account of the brave deeds of his ancestor in the 
American revolution of '76. How speedily did George fol¬ 
low in the footsteps of his great-grandfather, whom he re¬ 
garded with so much admiration. 

Since George was so concerned with the service of 
his ancestor in the struggle for American independ¬ 
ence, we are sure he would approve this account of 
his own part in the war which France waged to re- 


18 



AN INTRODUCTION 


tain her independence. Lieutenant Shipley had 
read that in the Revolutionary War his ancestor had 
served heroically, and in the record of Henry Ship¬ 
ley’s service in that war, had seen the adverb 
“ gloriously ” used to describe his service. Now it 
happened that for George’s service in the World 
War, that same adverb “ gloriously ” was used by 
the French bankers, Pays Du Nord, when they 
cabled to us the information of his death.* 

“ Lieutenant Shipley died gloriously on our com¬ 
mon battlefield ” read the message. “ Glorieuse- 
ment ” reads the record of Henry Shipley in ’76, 
and “ glorieusement ” reads the record, one hundred 
and forty years later, of his great-grandson. Henry 
Shipley fought so bravely as to send his name thrill¬ 
ing down thru the blood of generations of kin to 
Lieutenant Shipley, his great-grandson, who fol¬ 
lowed his example so closely as to thrill his young 
nephews and spur them on to be faithful in all life’s 
battles. 

It was early in December of 1917, about ten 
months before his death, that George came in to 
Chicago from Camp Grant to bid his family fare¬ 
well before starting for an eastern camp. He greatly 

* Paris, Feb. 7, 1919 

Votre depeche dixhuit janvier Lawrence Whiting nous informe aujour- 
d’hui vous ayant d£j& appris doloureuse nouvelle deces Lieutenant Ship* 
ley tombe glorieusement champ bataille commun recevez nos sinceres 
condolences 

Banque Pays Nord 


19 



HILL 7 


enjoyed his visit, the last with his Mother, and as he 
was leaving, he said: “ Whatever may happen to me, 
I shall never cease to thank God for this evening.” 
As he waved farewell to his women folk, he called 
out: “ This is a man’s job.” The purpose of the 
narrative which follows is to show how gloriously he 
performed that man’s job, how he played the man 
“ glorieusement.” 

Then, there is another reason for writing this 
narrative. When Lieutenant Shipley received his 
commission at Fort Sheridan, it was as an officer in 
the Quartermaster Corps. He went to France a 
lieutenant in the 304th Sanitary Train and was bil¬ 
leted with it on the 26th of September, 1918, just 
before the Argonne battle. The particulars of his 
death, which did not reach us until months after it 
had occurred, showed that he died with the Infantry. 
Naturally the question arose in our minds: — How 
did he get from the Quartermaster Corps into the In¬ 
fantry? During the intervening years much addi¬ 
tional information has come to us, through messages 
and letters, official and otherwise, from men and 
officers in his Company and this question may now 
be answered. 

The World War was a disgrace to us all, but the 
bravery of our boys, who resisted the greatest crime 
of all the ages, committed by the Germans against 
humanity, that day in 1914, when they let loose the 
dogs of war upon a peaceful world, the bravery of 
our boys, I say, will never be forgotten by those 
20 



AN INTRODUCTION 


whom they defended, and in this story of my 
brother’s bravery, we are likewise celebrating the 
bravery of the millions of other young men who 
went into that hell upon earth, in answer to the 
call of duty. 




















































































































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SEVEN HILLS 

THE HILL 

Breathless, we flung us on the windy hill. 

Laughed in the sun, and kissed the lovely grass. 

You said, “ Through glory and ecstasy we pass; 

Wind, sun, and earth remain, the birds sing still, 

When we are old, are old . . “And when we die 
All's over that is ours; and life burns on 
Through other lovers, other lips," said I, 

— " Heart of my heart, our heaven is now, is won! ” 

“ We are Earth's best, that learnt her lessons here. 

Life is our cry. We have kept the faith!" we said; 

“ We shall go down with unreluctant tread 
Rose-crowned into the darkness!" . . . Proud we were, 
And laughed, that had such brave true things to say. 

— And then you suddenly cried, and turned away. 

rupert brooke, the Soldier Poet 

To the Americans, the World War was a war of 
hills. The Argonne battlefield was a billowy sea of 
hill upon hill. From the very first pages of the 
Marines’ story, you read of Hill 165, 169, and so on. 
In the Argonne account, hill after hill is mentioned: 
Hill 304, Hill 240, Hill 269, Hill 180, Hill 2 44 and 
Hill 223, then Deadmen’s Hill and others. Not 
mountains as in Italy where twelve mountain peaks 
were to our knowledge the scenes of great battles, 

23 




HILL 7 


but hills. Thus Montfaucon was the very center of 
the Argonne battle, the hill upon which the Ger¬ 
man Crown Prince had his first line headquarters, 
from which he watched through his periscope * the 
shelling of Verdun, from which he would have 
marched in Belgium-like victory down the Sacred 
Way to Paris, if the American boys had not come to 
say: “ This is no road.” 

So, with all these hills in mind, it is my fancy to 
sketch my young brother’s life in chapters which 
shall be named Hills, and this not only because he 
fought so bravely among those hills in the Argonne, 
but because as I muse over his life, which I, his 
elder sister, knew from beginning to end, seven hills 
seem to dominate those swift speeding years, seem to 
have formed its foundation, like the seven hills of 
ancient Rome. 

From the day when I, a high school miss of 17, 
was called by the nurse into my mother’s room to 
look through the blankets upon the wee face of my 
new brother, down to the day when, in the lobby of 
the Shoreham Hotel in Washington, we bade good¬ 
bye to him, and looked for the last time upon that 
face so dear to us, his life was lived out before me. 
Like countless other older sisters, I shared with his 
mother the joy of mothering him, and it was a great 
delight that in his last letter home he wrote of “ my 
Sister-Mother ” thus giving me the right, in a way, 
to call him “ my son.” 

* This periscope now reposes in New York, it is said. 

24 



SEVEN HILLS 


This thought of hill-climbing through life’s 
struggles is beautifully expressed in the memorial 
to another Oak Park boy who died in war service. 
It was written by his mother, Mrs. George Whittle, 
and what she says of her son Amos so exactly ex¬ 
presses what I would write of my brother George 
that it shall stand in the beginning of his life’s narra¬ 
tive. Mrs. Whittle says of her son: “ He died with 
his eyes fixed on the high mountains of life where, 
beyond question, had he lived he would have 
climbed. But, dear friends, he had already climbed 
the high and rough ways that lead up to the steep 
mountains of character, and there he stood firmly at 
the top. Mistake not. It is no easy victory. Ma¬ 
terial achievement may be both, but no moral vic¬ 
tory is ever easy or accidental.” These words of 
Mrs. Whittle about her brave son Amos, I would 
make the keynote of this story of my brother’s life — 
a hill-climbing story. 

George Shipley was born in Detroit, Michigan, on 
the 14th day of October, 1883, in the old home 
which stood at the corner of Cass Avenue and Daven¬ 
port Street, 61 2 Cass Avenue. 


2 5 



PART ONE 



28 


Hill 1 — A House Top in Old Detroit 

This picture was drawn from memory by Detroit’s celebrated 
ceramic artist, Mary Chase Stratton, a girlhood friend of the 
author . This house was Lieutenant Shipley’s birthplace 
































































HILL 1 

A HOUSE TOP IN OLD DETROIT 
612 Cass Avenue at the corner of Davenport Street 

Where Yll unpack that scented store 
Of song and flower and sky and face, 

And count and touch and turn them o’er, 

Musing upon them; as a mother who has 
Watched her children all the rich day thru 
Sits, quiet, empty-handed in the fading light 
When children sleep, ere night. 

AUTHOR UNKNOWN 

It was late in the autumn of ’84, the place, our 
old Detroit home on Cass Avenue, corner of Daven¬ 
port Street. We were seated about the living room 
each busy at some task or other, none realizing that 
Baby George had eluded his nurse, and was not 
there with us in the room. He had just learned to 
walk; how could he encounter any dangers or pitfalls 
when his toddling steps could scarcely take him 
from our side? But this is what had happened: he 
was learning to climb! He had found the steps 
leading to the second floor, had mounted them 
quietly and safely. Finding the steps to the third 
floor, he ascended these also. He reached the third 
floor and through an open door to a room at the 
rear of the house he saw a chair close to an open 
29 



HILL 7 


window. Upon this he climbed and before we had 
missed him was out on the flat roof which stretched 
over the rear of the house. As the house ran length¬ 
wise on Cass Avenue, he was soon looking down 
upon this long street, absorbed in its far view of 
houses, trees, people, horses and carriages. He stood 
perilously near the roof’s edge, while his family sat 
below, all unconscious of his danger. 

Young Dr. Howard W. Longyear,* our family 
physician, who later became and long remained one 
of the leading diagnosticians of Detroit, was passing 
by in his slow-moving phaeton. He espied the little 
white-robed figure standing there on the roof’s edge, 
and with one bound leaped into the house, crashing 
in the front door in such a whirlwind fashion that 
we were startled beyond words; even now I seem to 
hear the thunder of that crash coming down through 
all these years. He shouted: “ Baby George is on 
the roof — on the roof! ” He was up the stairs, we 
following, and in a moment the Doctor had little 
George in his arms, though not before we, too, had 
caught a glimpse of the tiny figure standing there 
gazing down the street. 

This characteristic pose so typifies the upward 
trend of George’s short but earnest career, that it 
shall form Hill 1, the first ascent in this story of 
Hills, which is to end with the tale of Hill 7, the 
crowning achievement of his eager, young life. 

When George was still an infant, our family 

* Now deceased. 

30 



HILL 1 


moved from Detroit to Chicago, our first home be¬ 
ing in Hyde Park, where George Shipley, our father, 
died in April of 1887. Thereafter, for nearly thirty 
years, George’s life was lived in Oak Park, until the 
call came to go into military training for the World 
War, when he took up his residence in Chicago, to 
be nearer the armory where Battery E of the First 
Illinois Field Artillery was formed, and with which 
he went to the Mexican front in the summer of 1916. 

Now, as to Lieutenant Shipley’s ancestry. Some¬ 
one has written: “ Pride of race and pride of coun¬ 
try go hand in hand as two forms of patriotism.” 
There is inspiration in dwelling upon the character 
of a forefather who was worth while — no one can 
truthfully deny this — and in a family as incon¬ 
spicuous as our own, it is well to remind the present 
generation of its lineage and of the cradle of its 
race. Lieutenant Shipley possessed through his 
father a lineage rich in history and tradition. As a 
matter of record, one family tree shall be given in 
full, that of his father’s mother, Abigail Fitz Ran¬ 
dolph Shipley. 

It is the conventional thing nowadays to smile at 
the genealogical tables of those who aspire to the 
famous families of old England, and to discount 
some of them as being quite uncertain, especially 
those that stem from the Anglo-Saxon tree, but this 
Fitz Randolph line being also that of the present 
reigning monarch of England — for Queen Victoria 
was a descendant of our ancestor Lord Robert Fitz 


3i 



HILL 7 


Randolph, who built Middleham Castle in York¬ 
shire in 1190 — the family tree given below is not 
only of independent interest, but also of exceptional 
authenticity. Our American branch derives from 
Margaret Lady Stafford, the first wife of the Ran¬ 
dolph Fitz Randolph who was created Earl of West¬ 
moreland by Richard II in 1397, Lady Margaret 
being herself descended from an earlier royal family, 
that of Edward I; the present royal family comes 
from Randolph Fitz Randolph’s second wife, Joan 
of Beaufort. 

Lieutenant Shipley’s grandmother, Abigail Fitz 
Randolph, was a direct descendant of Lord Robert 
Fitz Randolph and the name had come down for 
almost a thousand years from Lord Robert of York¬ 
shire when it ended with Abigail, who died in 1870, 
the last of our line to bear this name. The prefix 
“ Fitz ” must be a part of the name Randolph, must 
be proven to be so, or the name and family are not 
of this tree. The Virginia Randolphs, for instance, 
are not of this family, having never had the prefix, 
while on the other hand certain Fitz Randolphs in 
America have merely failed to retain the prefix, 
dropping it for convenience’ sake. 

There are royal names in the Fitz Randolph an¬ 
cestry, but there is also a name which carries with 
it another sort of historical significance, the name of 
Archbishop Fitz Randolph of Armagh and Oxford, 
who taught, protected, and defended John Wycliffe, 
the Great Reformer of Oxford. Wycliffe, who gave 
32 




































































Middleham Castle 








Middleham Castle was built by Lord Robert Fitz Ran¬ 
dolph in Yorkshire, England, in 1190. It is one of the most 
ancient and one of the most beautiful baronial castle ruins 
of old England. It stands upon the Roman Road over 
which the families travelled on their journeys from London. 
The story of this interesting old ruin is described in the 
novel “ The Last of the Barons ” by Bulwer-Lytton. Lieu¬ 
tenant Shipley’s grandmother, Abigail Fitz Randolph Ship- 
ley, was a direct descendant of Lord Robert Fitz Randolph, 
the name having come down nearly a thousand years, and 
she was the last to bear this name in our line, her death hav¬ 
ing occurred in 1870. 

The reigning monarch of England harks back to this 
castle as the cradle of his race, for he too is a descendant of 
Lord Robert Fitz Randolph. The moat that once sur¬ 
rounded the castle has been leveled, but the Keep within 
the fortification is still to be seen. It is said that Crom¬ 
well’s men accomplished this ruin of Middleham Castle. 
John Wycliffe, the Reformer, lived not far away and tradi¬ 
tion records that some of his work of yvriting was done here 
at Middleham. 

Our pilgrim ancestor, Edward Fitz Randolph, came to 
America in 1628. He was not an eldest son and did not 
inherit either title or estates, but brought with him all the 
“ visitation papers ” which have come down to his descend¬ 
ants. His wife was Betty Blossom who came over on the 
last trip of the Mayflower, her parents having been friends 
of Governor Bradford. Edward’s son, Nathaniel Fitz Ran¬ 
dolph was the founder of that interesting locality, Barn¬ 
stable, on Cape Cod. 


33 


HILL 7 


the English Bible to the world, in a translation that 
he and his followers made from the Latin Vulgate, 
was born near Middleham Castle in Richmondshire, 
which is another name for that part of Yorkshire, 
and tradition says that he did some of his writing at 
this famous old house of the Fitz Randolphs. That 
John Wycliffe, “ the Morning Star of the Reforma¬ 
tion,” should have had as his teacher and defender 
Archbishop Fitz Randolph of Middleham and Ox¬ 
ford is a tradition of which Fitz Randolph descend¬ 
ants even in a democratic country may appropriately 
boast. 

Lieutenant Shipley’s four grandparents were 
named Fitz Randolph, Shipley, Denman, and Sel- 
over. The first three were English, and the first two 
trace back to the Doomsday Book of old England, 
compiled in the year 1000. The last, Selover, is of 
Holland origin, as the name itself indicates. The 
Fitz Randolph family tree may be found in the New¬ 
berry Library of Chicago, or in any other library 
having a special genealogical department. The Fitz 
Randolph lineage, being the most interesting, is 
alone given below: 

(1) ROLF, The Norseman Conqueror. 

Born about a.d. 86o. Died a.d. 932. Married 

Gisela, daughter of King Charles of France. 

(2) WILLIAM, “ LONGSWORD," Duke of Normandy. 

Died about 943. 

(3) RICHARD “ THE FEARLESS," Duke of Normandy. 

Reigned more than half a century. Died a.d. 996. 

34 



HILL 1 


(4) RICHARD “ THE GOOD,” Duke of Normandy. 

Died a.d. 1026. 

(5) RICHARD, Duke of Normandy. 

Married Judith. Died a.d. 1028. (He was father 
of Robert “ The Magnificent,” whose son was 
William “ The Conqueror,” and he was a brother 
of Avicia, who married Geoffrey, Duke of Brit¬ 
tany.) 

(6) GEOFFREY, AVICIA. 

(7) EUDO, Duke of Brittany. 

Married Agnes, daughter of Alan, and died in 1079. 

(8) RIBALD, Lord of Middleham. 

(Brother of Alan Rufus, Duke of Richmond, and 
to Stephen and to Bardolf.) Married Beatrix, and 
spent his last days in retirement at St. Mary’s Abbey, 
York. 

(9) RANDOLPH, Lord of Middleham. 

Married Agatha, daughter of the first Robert of 
Bruce. 

(10) ROBERT FITZ RANDOLPH, Lord of Middleham. 

Built the Castle of Middleham and married Hele- 
wisa de Glanville. 

(11) RANDOLPH FITZ RANDOLPH, Lord of Middle¬ 

ham. 

Married Mary, daughter of Roger Bigot, Duke of 
Norfolk. 

(12) RANDOLPH FITZ RANDOLPH, Lord of Middle¬ 

ham. 

Married Anastasia, daughter of William, Lord 
Percy. 

(13) MARY FITZ RANDOLPH 

Daughter of Randolph and Anastasia. A rich, re¬ 
ligious and benevolent woman. Married Robert 
de Neville. Died a.d. 1320, having survived her 
husband 49 years. 


35 




HILL 7 


(14) RANDOLPH DE NEVILLE, Lord of Middleham. 

His second wife was Margaret, daughter of Marma- 
duke Thweng. Died 1332. 

(15) RANDOLPH DE NEVILLE, Lord of Middleham. 

Married Alicia, daughter of Hugo de Audley. Died 
1368. 

(16) JOHN DE NEVILLE, Lord of Middleham. 

Married Matilda Percy. Died 1389. 

(17) RANDOLPH DE NEVILLE, Lord of Middleham 

and first Earl of Westmoreland. 

His first wife was Margaret (daughter of Hugh), 
Lady Stafford, descended from Edward I, and his 
second wife Joan of Beaufort, daughter of John of 
Gaunt and granddaughter of Edward III. Died 
1435. By his second wife his posterity runs into 
and down the English royal line. We now follow 
the posterity of the Earl of Westmoreland by his 
first wife, Lady Stafford. 

(18) JOHN (the children of whose brother Randolph 

were all daughters) married Elizabeth, daughter of 
Thomas Holland, Earl of Canterbury. He died 
two years before his father, 1433. 

(19) JOHN, heir presumptive to the dukedom of West¬ 

moreland. Was hero of the battle of Towton, in 
the year 1461, and lost his life there on the Lan¬ 
castrian side. Had married Anna, the widow of 
John de Neville. 

(20) RANDOLPH, Duke of Westmoreland. 

(Son of John and Anna) married Margaret, daugh¬ 
ter of Booth de Barton of Lancaster. 

(21) RANDOLPH, heir presumptive. 

Died during his father’s lifetime; had married 
Edith, daughter of the Earl of Sandwich. 

(22) RANDOLPH, Duke of Westmoreland. 

(Son of Randolph and Edith), married Catherine, 

36 





HILL 1 


daughter of Edward, Duke of Buckingham. Died 
1524. 

(23) RANDOLPH, fifth son of Randolph and Catherine. 

The first son being Henry, whose son Charles was 
the last in the line of these dukes of Westmoreland, 
and the other sons being Thomas, Edward, Christo¬ 
pher and Cuthbert. Died probably about 1565. 

(24) CHRISTOPHER FITZ RANDOLPH (son of Ran¬ 

dolph, fifth son of Duke of Westmoreland). 
Married Joan, daughter and heiress of Cuthbert 
Langton of Langton Hall. Died 1588. 

(25) EDWARD FITZ RANDOLPH of Langton Hall. 

With whom was found and in whom was confirmed 
by the “Visitation” of 1614 the Fitz Randolph 
Arms substantially as borne by the Lords of Middle- 
ham and by the Spennithorne branch of Fitz Ran¬ 
dolph. Died probably about 1635. 

(26) EDWARD FITZ RANDOLPH, Pilgrim. 

Married May 10, 1637, at Scituate, Mass., Elizabeth 
Blossom, daughter of Thomas and Anne Blossom. 
Moved to Piscataway, N. J., 1669. Died 1675. 

(27) NATHANIEL FITZ RANDOLPH (first settlers of 

Barnstable, Mass. Vol. Ill). 

Born 1642 (Town Records) at Barnstable, Mass., 
baptized May 15th, 1642, at Barnstable, Mass., died 
Sept. 21st, 1713, at Woodbridge, N. J. Married 
November 16th, 1662, at Barnstable, Mass., Mary 

L-of Sandwich, Mass., who died at Woodbridge, 

N. J., July 12th, 1703, daughter of Joseph Holly 
(Holway-Holoway) and Rose, of Sandwich, Mass. 

(28) EDWARD FITZ RANDOLPH, born 1670 (O. B. 

Leonard) at Woodbridge, N. J., died February 23, 
1760 (American Ancestry Quaker Records), at 
Woodbridge, N. J. Married 1704, Catherine 
(Quaker Records), born May 2nd, 1682 (American 

37 



HILL 7 


Ancestry) at Middleham, N. J., died August 13th, 
1759 (Quaker Records) at Woodbridge, N. J., 
daughter of Richard Hartshorne (son of Wm. 
Hartshorne of Hathern, England, and Margaret 
Carr, daughter of Robert Carr of R. I.). 

(29) RICHARD FITZ RANDOLPH, born April 16th, 

1 7°5 (Quaker Records) at Woodbridge, N. J., died 
1754 (will proved November 25th, 1754, made No¬ 
vember 20th, 1754) at Perth Amboy, N. J. Married 
July 25th, 1735 (Gen. and Biog. History Hull) 
(Quaker Records) at Shrewsbury “ at the house of 
John Corlies,” Shrewsbury (Quaker Records) Eliza¬ 
beth, born August 20th, 1716 (Quaker Records), 
daughter of John Corlies and Naomi Edwards. 

(30) THOMAS FITZ RANDOLPH, born October 12th, 

1740 (Quaker Records), at Perth Amboy, N. J., 
died 1801 (Will made July 21st, 1801, proved July 
27th, 1801) in Edstone Township, Fayette Co., 
Penna., married November 23rd, 1763, Abigail, 

born February 14th, 1742, died -, daughter of 

Stephen Vail and Esther Smith. 

(31) STEPHEN RANDOLPH, born February 11th, 1772, 

in N. J., died September 16th, 1849, * n Fayette 
County, Penna., married Permelia Nutt, July 14th, 
1797. She was born April 10th, 1780, died May 
10th, 1857. 

(32) ABIGAIL RANDOLPH, born in Fayette County, 

Penna., April 22nd, 1805, died in Richwood, Ohio, 
in 1870, married Benedict Shipley in Fayette 
County, Penna., May 22nd, 1821. Benedict was 
born in 1797, Sept. 26th, in Fayette Co., Penna., 
died in Richwood, Union County, Ohio, in 1873, 
either July or August. 

(33) GEORGE E. SHIPLEY, born in Mt. Vernon, Ohio, 

August 27th, 1845, died April 23rd, 1887, in Chi- 

38 



HILL 1 


cago, Illinois; married in Chesterville, Ohio, Sep¬ 
tember 25th, 1864, Effie Selover who was born April 
7th, 1846, died June 20th, 1920, and was buried in 
Chicago, Illinois. 

(34) GEORGE E. SHIPLEY, Jr., born in Detroit, Michi¬ 
gan, October 14th, 1883; killed in action in Battle 
of the Argonne, October 11th, 1918. 

Ponder on the entire past 
Laid together thus at last, 

When the twilight helps to fuse 
The first fresh with the faded hues, 

And the outline of the whole, 

As round eve’s shades their framework roll, 
Grandly fronts for once thy soull 

R. BROWNING 


39 



















. 































































Hill 2 — “ Old Baldy ” 

A great sand dune in Michigan 








HILL 2 

A SAND DUNE IN MICHIGAN 
Baldhead 

“From every mountain side let freedom ring/* 

To this line from our hymn “ America/' we add 
a verse which Dr. Van Dyke composed as an addi¬ 
tion to our national hymn, celebrating the beauty 
of our inland country: 

I love thine inland seas, 

Thy groves of giant trees, 

Thy rolling plains. 

Thy rivers’ mighty sweep, 

Thy mystic canyons deep. 

Thy mountains wild and steep: 

All thy domains. 

As has been written, not long after the first hill 
climb in George's life, in old Detroit, the family 
changed its place of residence from Detroit to Chi¬ 
cago, settling in Hyde Park, in 1885. 

The pleasures and pastimes of the 70’s and 8o's 
are still vivid in the memory of us who were young 
in those days and frequently rise to present a pleas¬ 
ing contrast to the diversions of the present time. 
For instance, in beautiful old Detroit — and it was 
beautiful in those days — what a joy were the winter 
afternoons that we devoted to sleigh-riding! 

What a picture old Cass Avenue presented when 
4i 



HILL 7 


the citizens all went sleighing of a winter afternoon 
up and down its long thoroughfare, hundreds of 
sleighs with their horses single or in lovely spans 
speeding its length, bearing whole families. How 
well I remember the graceful lines of the roomy 
sleighs, the bright colors, the great festive tassels of 
red waving in the breezes, the horses decorated with 
the merry silver-toned sleighbells, and the laughter 
of the pleasure-seekers mingling with the bells, for 
sleighing in that bracing air brought such laughter 
that none in those happy groups could escape the 
contagion of merriment. 

When our family left old Detroit to reside in 
Hyde Park, Chicago, we were glad to learn that the 
Grand Boulevard system too had its section for 
sleighing in the winter. Fifty years ago, Chicago 
too watched this merry scene. As often as the snow 
was deep enough, those who could gave their after¬ 
noon to the exhilarating joy of a family sleigh ride. 
Alas! At this very time, the early 8o’s, when the 
beautiful horses, then so universally loved and ad¬ 
mired, were carrying their loads up and down the 
Avenue to the music of the gay sweet-sounding bells, 
there were, in that very city of old Detroit, which 
we had just left, men who were dreaming and plan¬ 
ning a new conveyance for the family. Along that 
very Cass Avenue, George’s native street, the way 
led in from Dearborn, and in those very days, a 
youth, Henry Ford by name, the Dearborn dreamer, 
was traversing this thoroughfare, and in a few short 

4 * 



HILL 2 


years this happy pastime would forever disappear 
from our city streets. Like the wild flowers that 
once grew upon every bank in the old state of Michi¬ 
gan, the family sleigh with its span of horses, so 
stately and graceful whether driven in tandem or in 
team, has vanished, and you children are missing 
a beautiful spectacle and also much real merriment, 
thereby. 

One day fifty years ago your Grandmother was 
told by her father that he had an errand for her that 
morning. She found the errand a very pleasant one 
indeed, for at the appointed time the family sleigh 
stood at the door and this morning it was filled to 
overflowing with packages to be taken to the section 
of our city where the negro population at that time 
lived, west of State Street and south of 40th. The 
horses pranced gaily in the moments of waiting, as 
though eager to be off, the snow was deep, in spite 
of the fact that it was spring, and we soon reached 
our destination. I seem still to see at the windows the 
faces of those little pickaninnies gleefully watching 
us with black, bright eyes, as the roasts of chicken, 
beef, and ham, the bags of yellow oranges and red 
apples and all were taken into the tenement build¬ 
ing. They knew that here was food enough to 
supply them bountifully for as long as the big snow¬ 
storm lasted. That, children, was the last sleigh- 
ride your Grandmother ever took, and in a little 
while the whole world had seen its last sleigh ride, 
and the merry, jingling bells were forever stilled. 

43 



HILL 7 


At that time, her young brother George was four 
years of age. 

The warm sun of spring was soon to melt the deep 
snow just described, but swifter did that day melt 
from the thought of this writer in the light of the sad 
events that succeeded it. The father who had 
thought of the pickaninnies and had sent them food 
for that stormy day was taken very ill and soon 
passed from us. 

The custom of fifty years ago was for a friend to 
sit by the remains of the dead. Our father’s close 
friend and neighbor of those days, Daniel H. Burn¬ 
ham, Sr., who was at that very time planning his 
Chicago Beautiful and also a Washington Beautiful, 
sat up through the long hours of the night keeping 
vigil. The next day Dr. Thomas Hall, pastor of our 
church, tried to comfort us with his services, and 
presently we were following the casket to its last 
resting place in Oakwoods, not far from the boule¬ 
vard where we had loved to drive during those years 
of residence in Hyde Park. 

Then the little family were on their way to Oak 
Park, sad and disconsolate, seeing a dreary future 
with the dear father gone from them. Their friends 
were back there in Chicago and the new home 
seemed lonely indeed. Mother built her home 
on the north side of the village, attracted by 
a great row of cottonwood trees, which seemed to 
offer protection to her and her woebegone little 
family. 


44 



HILL 2 


A poet once wrote: “ Joy’s recollection is no 
longer joy, but sorrow’s memory is sorrow still.” So 
it is with the thought of that far away past. The 
memory of my father still brings sorrow with it. 
You, my dear grandchildren, are taught to revere 
the memory of your grandfather Lindsay T. Wood¬ 
cock, a great merchant of his time and a great Chris¬ 
tian of his city and country, and may you remember 
too that your great grandfather George Elliott Ship- 
ley, Sr., was a great soul and very dearly beloved by 
all who knew him. 

Sudden changes in life are beneficial or not ac¬ 
cording as you take them, and the little family com¬ 
ing from a carefree life of plenty, of interesting 
events, of happiness in their dear father’s presence 
among them, were now confronted with such a 
change. 

Gone now were the happy summers on Wisconsin 
lakes, the cedar boat with its double silver-tipped 
oars and crimson cushions of velvet, gone were the 
days of horseback riding, on the black Kentucky 
saddle horse with its delightful canter and single 
foot gaits, on the equestrian third of the Boulevard, 
as it was, fifty years ago. Gone were the elder son’s 
happy terms at Harvard School, then in its heyday, 
gone were our many friends and all the joys of such 
a circle. 

But our mother was brave and her lonely struggle 
always remained an example for her sons to follow 
and to emulate when their own battles came. 

45 



HILL 7 


Changes like this may be beneficial but they are 
hard to bear. 

Our brother knew no other home than Oak Park 
and in order to give my readers a comprehensive 
background for the thirty years of his life at home, 
the following lines, written by one who lived in the 
village and walked its streets during those years, see¬ 
ing it grow and develop, are given entire. The 
writer of these lines was the late Roxanne Seabury 
Wright, who kindly consented to their use. 

AN ODE TO THE SISTER VILLAGES, OAK PARK 
AND RIVER FOREST 

O Sister Villages, so greatly blest, 

Where love and friendship dwell in happy homes, 

We pray thee listen to thy praises sung 
By one who knew thee well when as a child, 

She wandered ’neath the trees and by the stream 
Where in those far-off days you had your birth. 

For in those days wherein our fathers strove 
To find a refuge from the city’s din 
And surcease from the city’s carking cares, 

They sought the shelter of the oaks and elms 
That bordered all the boundless prairie-land 
Which lay beyond the city’s jarring gates. 

And there they builded better than they knew 
Their tiny homes amid those towering trees, 

And found therein the peace and rest they sought. 

They planted gardens by the gravel paths 
That led to many a neighboring friendly door, 

And merry children played beneath the trees 

46 



HILL 2 


And watched the squirrels and birds at play above, 
Or raced the prairies chasing butterflies. 

So freely given — God’s sweet air and sun 
And rain, the happy children grew in grace 
As did the wild-flowers in the fields. 

There soon appeared a tiny meeting-house 
Wherein the villagers might worship God, 

And churchbells broke the solemn Sabbath quiet 
With sweet insistent call to prayer and praise. 

Then did the village fathers build a school 
Wherein their children might be taught to read 
And write and draw and do their simple sums. 

Soon, shops sprang up to fill each house-wife’s need, 
And simple pleasures filled their hours of ease; 

So life was full of joy and sweet content. 

Good men gave freely of their gold and time 
To further sweet prosperity and peace 
Within the confines of these villages 
Close-bound as sisters of a common blood. 

The elder, named for all her stately oaks, 

The younger, for her trees and river fair. 

O Sister Villages, we loved you then 

When in our childish glee we gathered flowers 

Along thy woodland paths, ’neath skies of blue. 

A priceless heritage, this memory 
Of childhood spent ’mid scenes so beautiful, 

So fraught with sweet simplicity and love! 

We love thee still, since we have seen thee grow 
From tiny towns to what seems to be worthwhile. 
Still beautiful, tho man has pruned thy trees, 

And changed thy forests into verdant lawns. 

Instead of God’s first temples ’neath the trees, 

Stone churches lift their lofty spires to Heaven, 

And many a school of brick and stone replace 

47 



HILL 7 


The tiny buildings which our fathers knew. 

Thy gravel paths long since are lost to sight 
Amid the maze of myriad concrete walks. 

And all thy lanes are busy thorofares. 

Thy tiny shops are grown to wondrous size 
And commerce plies its every trade and art. 

Thy simple homes have crumbled to decay 
And many stately mansions grace thy streets. 

The quaint turnouts our fathers drove with pride 
Have given way to horseless carriages; 

Where once was heard the rumble of the cart, 

One hears the hum of motor and the grind 
Of wheels that bear one to the city’s mart. 

O Sister Villages, so blest with wealth 
And joy and beauty, may thy children pause 
Amid their gladness and their civic pride. 

And thank the gracious God for mercies given 
And for the men who sowed that we might reap 
The benefits of all their generous care. 

For thee, Oak Park and River Forest fair 
We wish prosperity and peace and joy 
Within the homes that dot the prairie land 
And forests far beyond the boundaries 
Which once those early village fathers knew. 

Oh may thy children, grown to manhood keep 
Unsullied thy fair name, and prove to be 
All-worthy heirs of this, their heritagel 
O Sister Villages, this be thy aim 
And blessings shall continue as of yore 
To make of thee a haven of peace and joy. 

This then, our hymn of praise and prayer for thee I 

The life portrayed in these lines was familiar to 
our George for he, too, “ wandered ’neath the trees 

48 



HILL 2 


and by the stream ” of the twin villages, in those 
early days of their history. Hiking, cycling, playing, 
fishing, swimming, and all the rest that delight a 
small boy all his boyhood days, were his, and the war 
memorial which the Gold Star Mothers of Chicago 
put upon the banks of the Des Plaines in River 
Forest, stands exactly upon the little hill where every 
spring George’s family went in frolicsome mood for 
the spring flower picnic, to celebrate a birthday in 
the family, with the cloth laid upon a “ bank of vio¬ 
lets ” and the breeze wafting the fragrance of the 
spring beauties, wild orchids, and Jack-in-the- 
Pulpits as it fluttered the candle flame upon the 
snowy birthday cake. I do not think this gay little 
picnic held always in May was omitted once in ten 
successive years. 

Here in Oak Park George lived, attended the 
Holmes School, and was graduated from the Oak 
Park High School in 1904. During his high school 
days, there came into the possession of the Oak Park 
High School, a new athletic ground called “ Phipps 
Field.” This lay but a few steps from George’s 
home and he spent much of his leisure time there. 
They were happy hours to him, these in which he 
took his first lessons in athletics, and it soon became 
evident that he was destined to excel in the art of 
running a foot race. 

One day an old man of the neighborhood, a 
German, watched him at this sport with much in¬ 
terest. As he left the field, he met George’s mother, 

49 



HILL 7 


whom he addressed thus: “ Dat poy, Georg, of yours, 
he can run mit his feet like a deer.” When reading 
a history of the American part in the World War, 
we were reminded of this old German and his words 
about George’s running abilities, by a story of some 
American boys taking prisoner an officer of the Ger¬ 
man army who spoke English quite well. When 
questioned, the captive officer said: “ We did not 
know your American soldiers were all sprinters! ” 
This name “ sprinters ” clung to that company for 
a long time. In the American Revolutionary War, 
our soldiers were called “ ragamuffins.” In the 
World War, the English were called “ Contempt- 
ibles ” by the Kaiser, and now our boys were given 
the soubriquet, “ sprinters.” It was a name in which 
George would have gloried. 

This word “ sprinters ” interested the historians 
of the War, and in Palmer’s “ Our Greatest Battle,” 
the following appears: “ We had neither material 
nor time for extensive preparations. We must de¬ 
pend upon the shock of a sudden and terrific impact 
and the momentum of irresistible dash. If we took 
the enemy by surprise when he was holding the line 
weakly, with few reserves, we might go far. Indeed, 
never was the element of surprise more esssential.” 
The 440-yard dash! Ludendorff, like the German 
officer prisoner, had never considered that the 
Americans were sprinters, and would dash another 
offensive up over the heights of the whaleback! But, 
on the night of September 25th, from the Meuse to 
50 



HILL 2 


the forest’s western edge, every division was in posi¬ 
tion, and the sprinters, keeping faith with Marshal 
Foch, were ready to dash “ over the top.” To quote 
again from Palmer’s history: “ On the eve of the 
Battle of the Argonne, every soldier was a runner, 
crouched for the pistol shot, as he waited the dawn.” 

The sprinters crouched, waiting. They could all 
run with their feet like deer, or if need be, with 
winged feet like Mercury, and the Germans hesi¬ 
tated and staggered when the American boys came 
upon the scene in that vast battle of the Argonne in 
September, 1918. 

The lessons learned at home upon athletic fields 
such as Phipps Field in Oak Park had much to do 
with the brave part played by our boys in the World 
War, and all honor to those citizens who make it 
possible for the youth of our land to grow strong, 
lithe and supple, to battle bravely if war must be, 
or to live nobly in times of peace. It is interesting 
to note in this connection that Phipps Field, lying at 
the dividing line between the twin villages of Oak 
Park and River Forest, was procured for Oak Park 
High School mainly through the efforts of Mrs. 
William Winslow, mother of Alan Winslow, the first 
American airman to bring down a German plane in 
the World War. 

It was the summer of 1900 when George Shipley 
first came to the shores of Lake Michigan at Douglas 
for his vacation. Ever after, this was his favorite 
spot for summering and he spent parts of many sum- 
51 



HILL 7 


mer seasons here. George very soon discovered old 
“ Baldhead,” a great sand dune on the Kalamazoo 
River. This hill, several hundred feet high, be¬ 
tween the river bend and the lake, was really the 
first hill our brother had ever seen. There were no 
hills in Chicago. When a hill was needed, to test 
the climbing capacity of an automobile, when that 
carriage came into vogue, a hill, Algonquin, had to 
be built! 

So it was at Baldhead, George’s favorite camping 
ground, that he first learned to run. Running be¬ 
came his favorite sport. The great, wide beach, dry 
and hard, proved so grand a track. The air was in¬ 
vigorating, the plunge in the sea after the practice 
delightful. These early days of training were the 
supreme joy of his young life. And to Baldhead, 
our Hill 2 , perhaps more than to any other place 
that played a part in his life did he owe his success in 
events athletic. “ If Waterloo was won on the play¬ 
ing fields of Eton ” then the Argonne was won on 
Phipps Field, or on beaches like this at our Hill 2, 
where our youths spent their summers storing up 
health and strength in athletic training. 

George also loved to climb the great sand dune in 
the evening to get the sunset view, and he learned 
to scale it in the early morning hours to catch the 
glory of the sunrise. He taught his friends the fas¬ 
cination of this night climb, leading them through 
the mazes of Old Baldy easily, for he knew so well 
just where the best paths lay that he could safely 
52 




HILL 2 


pilot his companions up to the summit. If the light 
of the moon should be missing, they made the ar¬ 
duous ascent with lanterns, to be there in time to 
catch the first rays of the coming dawn. The beauty 
of this scene upon the summit of the great sand dune 
as the gray mist faded away and daylight came 
slowly on, displaying the pastoral fields to the north, 
the lovely river at the foot of the mountain of sand, 
the tiny villages nestled below, the shining little lake 
at the right from which the fishermen were begin¬ 
ning to dart out in their small boats to make their 
way to the big lake for the early fishing in deeper 
water, — the beauty of this scene as the sun arose 
from behind the mountains of gorgeous cloud, 
golden, purple, and crimson, that lay upon the 
horizon, quieted the hearts of all who gazed upon it. 
The great round disc itself was near, for a sunrise 
view to be at its best must be seen from a high point 
where you apparently have only to put out your 
hand to touch the gold that startles you with its 
nearness. For those ambitious climbers who have 
caught this view at early dawn, the sight is one that 
ever lingers in their memory. 

This glorious view is thus described by another 
who saw it there at Baldhead: “as we watched the 
sunrise in all its splendor, we had in mind Sidney La¬ 
nier’s poem ‘ The Marshes of Glynn,’ where he says 
— ‘ I will heartily lay me hold of the greatness of 
God,’ and we too, tried to lay hold of the greatness of 
God. Many years will pass, but the memory and the 

53 



HILL 7 


greatness of God in that beautiful scene will never 
pass nor fade away." 

George kept this love of climbing to get the sun¬ 
rise or the sunset view all through his short life and 
it was this love of the mountain view that drew him 
to see the wonderful sight of the sunrise upon Pike’s 
Peak later. He never lost an opportunity to make 
a sunrise climb if he was in the neighborhood of a 
point in the sky. He could not resist the mountain 
view. 

At the foot of Old Baldy, in the year 1843, J ames 
Fenimore Cooper camped for a summer season and 
here laid the scene for one of his novels of Indian 
life, “ Oak Openings." This novel describes the 
spot, speaking especially of the river that runs at 
the foot of the sand dune. These are the words in 
which Cooper describes his camping spot: “ The 
woods around are the unpeopled forests of Michigan 
and the small winding Reach, a placid water that 
was just visible in the distance, was an elbow of the 
Kalamazoo, a beautiful little river that flows west¬ 
ward emptying its tribute into the vast expanse of 
Lake Michigan." Cooper calls this country “ The 
Garden Spot of America " and he is led to quote 
Percival’s lines as he attempts to describe the beauty 
of hills, rivers, fields, trees and the wild flower 
growth of this region: “ There is no other land like 
thee, no dearer shore; thou are the shelter of the 
free; the home, the port of liberty." 

But, alas, this garden spot of our country, so 

54 



HILL 2 


named by James Fenimore Cooper and on record 
in the Smithsonian Institute at Washington, as one 
of the most noted parts of our country for the abun¬ 
dance and variety of its flora, has sadly changed. So 
much that was in wild profusion even twenty-five 
years ago has begun to disappear. The wild orchid, 
Southern smilax, the quaint Indianpipe, the field- 
daisies, the bluebells, the fragrant elderberry bush, 
and even the everblooming black-eyed Susan are 
scarce now, while the Boston fern that grew beside 
the road is entirely gone and the delicate Maiden¬ 
hair fern that once grew in the forests must now be 
searched for in the most remote parts of the inner 
dells, if indeed it can be found at all. All this in the 
short space of twenty-five years! What must this 
region have been in the days when James Fenimore 
Cooper camped on Lake Kalamazoo at the foot of 
Baldhead, our Hill 2? Those who summer here, 
year after year, endeavor to preserve their little 
patches of bluebells or ferns from summer to sum¬ 
mer, but find it a losing game with the ruthless hand 
of the city florist trying to satisfy the demand for 
ferns in winter. 

During George’s senior year at the Oak Park High 
School, he spent his Christmas holidays clerking at 
Marshall Field’s. Having an afternoon off on the 
Wednesday between Christmas and New Year’s, he 
attended the tragic performance of the matinee at 
the Iroquois Theatre across the street. His descrip¬ 
tion of this terrible afternoon given in an article 

55 



HILL 7 


which he wrote at the request of the editor of the 
high school paper, was also printed in the Oak Park 
Reporter. 

At the matinee he had noticed the entrance of a 
friend, Miss Christian, who, with her fiance, was 
seated not far in front of him. As he viewed the sud¬ 
den flame upon the stage, he felt at once a misgiving 
and glanced over at Miss Christian with anxious ap¬ 
prehension but, not having made the acquaintance 
of her fiance and with too much regard for this cold 
formality, he simply left his seat and hurried down 
stairs, ahead of the crowd. How grieved he was 
afterwards that he did not obey his first chivalrous 
instinct and signal them to come away with him! 
Several hours later on finding that Miss Christian 
had not reached home, he telephoned to a relative 
of hers his fears for her, and together they went to 
the morgue to see if they could find her in that 
ghastly gathering of bodies taken from the fire. 
After a long and horrible search, they found and 
identified both her and her fiance, and George 
came on home to Oak Park where he arrived at 
about ten o’clock, faint and miserable from the 
experience. 

He staggered to the couch, black from his contact 
with smoke and soot in the morgue, and could 
scarcely get strength to relate his awful experience 
of the afternoon. His remorse that he had not been 
able to save our friend, the beautiful Miss Christian, 
was very great. 


56 



HILL 2 


The story following must have taxed his descrip¬ 
tive powers to the utmost. His quiet reticence in 
telling of this calamity, one of the worst in the city’s 
history, with six hundred people losing their lives 
in a short half hour, seems unusual, for he wrote but 
a few days after the occurrence. When asked why 
it was that he had come out in time to save his life 
when all about him sat still, he answered: “ I am 
thinking that the game of foot-ball makes one sense 
a danger quickly.” In this recital of the Iroquois 
fire, he says nothing of the care he took of several 
children who had been separated from their families. 
One child he long carried aloft on his shoulders, hop¬ 
ing that friends would discover the boy, then finally 
gave him into the care of the police and never 
learned what stroke of fate befell the little child or 
his parents so suddenly separated in the awful con¬ 
fusion. 


IN THE IROQUOIS FIRE 
(February Tabula) 

So much has already been written about the Iroquois 
calamity that it would seem as though the subject had been 
exhausted, yet that can hardly be, as there will come to the 
public from time to time, some story or incident that failed 
to reach them before. 

This awful fire occurred, as every one knows, in the midst 
of our holiday season, all schools from colleges to kinder¬ 
gartens, public and private, were closed and they were all 
represented that fatal afternoon of December 30th, 1903. 

The first indication that I had of a crowded house was 
while I stood in line waiting to buy my ticket, a very long 

57 



HILL 7 


line consisting of rich and poor, old and young. Some be¬ 
came impatient at the delay in obtaining their place at 
the window and departed with disgust, which would have 
changed to a prayer of thanksgiving had they known then 
what they were to escape. 

The man at the window gave me my choice, standing 
room in the gallery or a seat in the first balcony. I obtained 
the latter and hurried into the building. 

On entering the first balcony, I took my seat next the 
aisle, third row from the front and noticed of what a jolly 
crowd the audience was composed, a crowd full of holiday 
humor and bubbling over with mirth. 

What impressed me most as I thought of it afterward, was 
the great number of families. For instance, across the aisle 
was a family consisting of a grandmother, the mother, a 
young man about eighteen, a boy about twelve and two 
little girls. This was an instance many times duplicated as 
that ghastly deathroll afterward showed. 

The performance itself was in keeping with the build¬ 
ing: they were both beautiful. These thoughts were going 
through my brain in the second act as the double octette 
had finished singing “ In the Pale Moonlight,” when sud¬ 
denly a yellow light appeared at the left of the stage. There 
had been so many different colored lights used during the 
afternoon that I thought this one was a part of the play, 
until small pieces of flimsy drapery fell to the stage floor, 
burning. 

At this juncture a quiet murmur ran through the audi¬ 
ence but there was no shrieking or yelling at this time. Sud¬ 
denly a man appeared at the place where the fire was, he 
seemed to be trying to put it out, but finding this impossi¬ 
ble, he turned to the audience, motioning with his hand for 
everyone to remain seated and shouted something about a 
panic for I heard him only indistinctly. All this time pieces 


58 



HILL 2 


of burning scenery kept falling down all around this man, 
who afterward proved to be the chief comedian. 

I did not get up immediately but sat there, I don’t know 
how long for every one around me seemed to have the same 
impression, namely to keep cool. Men got up from various 
places and shouted at everyone to remain seated. This I 
did till it seemed foolish to stay there any longer, and then 
turned up the aisle, leaving the people, many of whom by 
this time had become petrified with fear, as they beheld the 
lightning progress of those eager flames. I passed through 
the door, the very place where bodies were found in heaps, 
out into the marble stairway, the same way that I had en¬ 
tered, for it seemed the only way to get out, no exit doors 
were in sight and if there were any they were hidden from 
view, obscured by velvet curtains used to give a more beau¬ 
tiful effect. 

As I left my seat, the thought of my hat and overcoat 
downstairs in the check room occurred to me and I went 
down the stairs two and three at a time, which fact shows 
that I had gotten a start on the crowd in the first balcony. 
However, it was different downstairs as the rush was on by 
the time I reached the first floor and had turned back to the 
check room. This I succeeded in reaching finally after a 
difficult rush against people who were half crazed by fear, 
and obtained my hat and overcoat in due order. 

The shrieking and screaming of women and children had 
become by this time the chief noise with the exception of 
the explosion I heard while putting on my overcoat in the 
check room. The hallway was all made of marble and I 
thought then that it could not burn, but the explosions had 
put it in a new light, perhaps the whole building would 
blow up, and with such thoughts I went out the front en¬ 
trance in the most panic-stricken crowd I ever saw. 

On the outside there was also confusion, the loud shout 


59 



HILL 7 


of firemen and clanging of fire bells making things lively 
for a while. I stepped across the street, out of the way of 
twisting hose, and climbed up on a hose wagon to get a 
better view of things. The street was crowded with people, 
onlookers, hatless women, chorus girls in stage garb and 
little children lost from parents; confusion reigned supreme. 

The crowd was at last pushed back by an army of police¬ 
men who cleared a space in front of the theatre. Thirty 
minutes from the time the fire started, the last flame was 
out and in less time than that, I saw from my place on the 
wagon, the wounded carried out and sent away in ambu¬ 
lances. Next came the dead, one after another was carried 
out of that terrible hole of death and laid on the sidewalk 
like so many sacks of flour, faster than they were able to be 
carried away. When I had counted forty I left the horrible 
scene, fully conscious of my narrow escape. 

This horrible holocaust was in itself a shock to the world, 
but it seems all the worse because the sanest opinions de¬ 
clare it was all unnecessary and the result of base neglect. 

GEORGE SHIPLEY 


6o 































































































Hill 3 — “ Happy Hill ” 

Skiing at Dartmouth College, Hanover, New Hampshire 


HILL 3 

HAPPY HILL AT DARTMOUTH 

Skiing on the mountainside 

They had the still north in their souls. 

The hill winds in their breath, 

And the granite of New Hampshire 
Was made part of them *till death . 

AUTHOR UNKNOWN 

When George discovered Hill 2 , the great sand 
dune in Michigan, he saw for the first time in his 
life a real hill; and now when he came to Hanover, 
New Hampshire, his new college home, he found it 
beset with smiling hills, and for the first time in his 
life he gazed upon a real mountain range, looking 
down into the fathomless depths of the ravines or 
up to the incredible beauty of a mountain top that 
seemed to point among the stars. There were the 
Berkshires, the Green Mountains and the White: 
his letters home during these first months glowed 
with his delight in the surrounding scenery at Dart¬ 
mouth. When he began his long walks through the 
mountain trails, his joy in this rare and dazzling 
order of beauty, so new to him, passed all bounds. 
And here at Dartmouth he learned to know the 
pleasure of a mountain climb. Those ascents were 
no primrose paths of dalliance: mountain climbing 
61 



HILL 7 


at Dartmouth meant hours of hard and strenuous 
toil. But, before we say anything more about his 
pleasure in the mountains at Hanover, some other 
aspects of his college life must be given. 

We have no records of the time he gave to ath¬ 
letics in those days, but since athletics formed so 
important, so momentous a part of his life from 
early youth, an attempt must be made to tell some¬ 
thing of what he accomplished in this line. When 
his death in the Argonne battle became known, the 
Press headed all accounts in Chicago: “ Death of a 
Noted Athlete.” So, if to the outside world he was 
“ noted ” for his prowess in foot races, it is for us to 
write what we can about his efforts in this interest¬ 
ing field, especially as there are, among the mem¬ 
bers of the present generation who will read this 
account, some who have themselves shown an in¬ 
terest in athletics. 

From his boyhood he had brought home medals 
taken in the different meets which were being held at 
the athletic fields for the schools of Chicago, Oak 
Park and neighboring suburbs. At first they were 
of bronze and some of these we still have in our pos¬ 
session. Later, they were more important appear¬ 
ing, some of silver and some of gold. He was very 
modest about these medals; we scarcely knew of 
them or realized how he excelled in this exciting 
sport. His women folk seldom heard of the 
“ meets ” and never attended any of them. We 
were in almost complete ignorance of them in those 
62 



HILL 3 


days. However, when, in June of 1904, he was 
graduated from the Oak Park High School, it was 
our pleasure to attend commencement exercises, 
and one of the important days of that commence¬ 
ment week was Class Day, held in the new Warring¬ 
ton Opera House, where the medals were given out 
for the Field Day exercises which had taken place 
on the day preceding. We had not attended Field 
Day nor had we been told of what had happened on 
that day. Seated together in the Opera House we 
were quite unconscious of what was about to take 
place. 

After the regular program, Professor Hanna, 
principal of the High School, announced that prizes 
would now be bestowed upon the winners of the 
contests of the day before, and that the name of the 
winner of General Merit would be announced. 
With pleasure we heard George’s name called and 
saw him ascend the stairs to receive the medal for 
some race he had won. In a few moments, he was 
called up again, then again — we, the family, were 
getting quite thrilled at his distinction in the affair. 
Was he called to the platform ten times to claim a 
prize? I am certain it was more. And it was very 
soon evident who had won the Grand Prix or Gen¬ 
eral Merit; there was great cheering for him and 
clapping of hands and as he continued to fly up 
those steps to the platform to take the prizes our 
pride in him knew no bounds. 

We enjoyed that afternoon more delight in his 

63 



HILL 7 


success in athletics than at any other time. When 
the beautiful cup was displayed and Professor Hanna 
announced George as the winner whose name would 
be placed upon it, our pride was beyond words. His 
name was on every lip that afternoon in the crowded 
opera house, to the accompaniment of shouting, 
stamping of feet, clapping of hands. Amidst that 
babel of sounds, we, his mother and two sisters, 
while gazing with astonishment upon the scene, 
were quietly in our hearts placing a garland of 
myrtle upon his brow, as the Greeks placed their 
emblem upon the head of their victors. He had won 
this distinction for fleetness of foot, but it had been 
earned by his strenuous drilling, discipline, and 
training; it meant that he had proved himself 
capable of endeavor. 

The closing hours of that day were spent at home, 
with his friends dropping in to congratulate him and 
to see the medals he had won. This seems to us the 
very happiest day of his life. The holiday light of 
it remained in his eyes for a long time after. And 
we muse upon that day now with happiness for the 
happiness he enjoyed. Perhaps this story — which 
is, by the way, told quite out of chronological order 
inasmuch as the event occurred the year before 
Hill 3 really begins — may seem to embody a too 
extravagant eulogy. If so, however, it will at least 
no more than balance his own too persistent mod¬ 
esty about his athletic success, a topic of conversa¬ 
tion that he always avoided. 

64 



HILL 3 


As George consistently failed to show us any press 
clippings of his achievements in athletics, we have 
no file of them and so are unable to give any accu¬ 
rate account or chronological order of his successes 
in this most important and interesting part of his 
youth. After his death, the trunk which he had left 
at home filled with what he regarded as his most 
valuable treasures, was opened. Here all of his cups 
and a box containing his medals were found, and by 
reading the inscriptions upon these cups and medals, 
we get some idea of his life as an athlete. We see 
that his prizes were won mostly in the half-mile and 
the quarter-mile events, though some were won in 
high hurdles, broad jumps, and relay races. George 
held for some years the record in Cook County for 
the half mile, which he ran in two minutes, or “ two 
flat ” as they expressed it. His prizes were won in 
the following places: Oak Park High School, Cook 
County Athletic League, Dartmouth College, Brown 
University, Columbia University, Northwestern 
University, New England Collegiate Meet, Amateur 
Athletic Union, Yale University, Cornell Univer¬ 
sity, University of Michigan, Boston Tech, Boston 
Athletic Association, and at an important meet in 
Philadelphia where the trophy was a fine gold 
watch. In 1903 he was invited to take part in a meet 
at the World’s Fair at St. Louis. He won besides 
a gold medal, a two-year membership in the Chi¬ 
cago Athletic Association. One reason he was very 
desirous of winning in this meet may have been be- 

65 



HILL 7 


cause the prizes were to be distributed by Alice, 
daughter of President Roosevelt then in the White 
House. Great was our pleasure in reading his short 
telegram — “Won first place” — for we realized 
what that particular victory meant to him. The 
St. Louis meet is the only athletic event the press 
record of which we have in our possession, and it 
follows as clipped from the Chicago Tribune: 

SHIPLEY WINS HALF MILE RUN 

At the Amateur Athletic Union’s championship games at 
St. Louis the Oak Park High School boys entered in the 
junior division received a first and third. Captain Shipley 
won first place in the half mile, while Rose, heretofore un¬ 
defeated, won third place in the mile, losing second by 
about six inches. 

In Shipley’s event he ran third nearly the entire distance. 
With him in a cluster were a New York man and a repre¬ 
sentative from San Francisco. When about 40 yards from 
the finish the Oak Parker sprinted around his two oppo¬ 
nents and won by a yard and a half in the good time of 
2:06 1-5. Comstock, Shipley’s old rival, finished fourth in 
this race and dropped out of the quarter mile event. He 
entered the races untrained. 

While in St. Louis the boys saw the Fair and everything 
possible was done for their comfort and enjoyment. 

It is to the Greeks that we owe all our knowledge, 
national or international, of athletics for our youth. 
They were the trainers of the first athletes, the Eng¬ 
lish followed them, and we followed the English, 
and though there may be much about collegiate ath¬ 
letics that is regrettable, after all there is nothing in 

66 




George Shipley Crouched for a Race 
His record, the half-mile in 2 minutes, made in 1901 . To¬ 
day's more scientific training methods have lowered this 
record considerably 




HILL 3 


the world to take their place. As President Tucker 
of Dartmouth wrote: “ I regard athletics as a legiti¬ 
mate school for the training of our youth in leader¬ 
ship.” He argued that in the strict training and 
self-disciplining of the would-be athlete, the moral 
possibilities to be gained were even greater than the 
physical results. 

Among other pleasures at Dartmouth College, 
George enjoyed being a member of that ancient 
society called the Casque and Gauntlet, a privilege 
which brought with it a home in their house, one 
of the most delightful places on campus. Its wide 
porches commanding a fine view of the campus and 
its activities were a. coveted spot in spring and 
autumn as was its large living room in winter, with 
huge wood fires burning out their fragrant warmth 
for the students when they rested after work or 
play. His life in this luxurious house was the lux¬ 
ury of his college course which George loved best to 
describe in his letters home. Perhaps it was the one 
great luxury of his life. 

After George’s death, the members of the Casque 
and Gauntlet Society wrote to his mother that he, 
George, had proved himself a true Knight of the 
Casque and Gauntlet Society indeed. 

George corresponded faithfully with his Mother 
while at college and from some of his letters to her 
and to his sister the following extracts were taken 
because they showed his great love and admiration 
for his college president, Dr. Arthur L. Tucker, one 
67 



HILL 7 


of the great educators of our country. After his 
birthday, he wrote: 

October 18, 1906 
Hanover, New Hampshire 

Dear Mother: 

The letter and package were received, and thank 
you. Everything was just what I needed. The little 
diary will come in handy. We are getting fall 
weather now, the leaves are turning and falling and 
the various colors and shades are something elegant. 
I enjoyed my birthday very much last Sunday. It 
was the best fall day I have ever experienced and I 
took occasion to ride out into the country. We get 
plenty of good snow apples here and also fine cider, 
too. I am studying hard this year, and hope to enjoy 
college much more. President Tucker seems to get 
better each year. 

George 

Hanover, New Hampshire 

Dear M: 

I am at liberty at last and can breathe freely once 
more. Exams are all over for me. They were fierce 
— haven’t heard from any yet but English and 
Latin, getting 62 and 80 in them respectively. 
Think I passed all but was on the ragged edge of 
chemistry. Yale beat us at New York, but we think 
we can do better next spring at Philadelphia. En¬ 
joyed my trip to New York very much though it was 
short. Today is Friday, and on Tuesday am going 
68 



HILL 3 


to Boston where we race Penn., then our indoor 
season is over. It has turned cold at last, yesterday 
was about 50 below and snowed all day. I went to 
chapel this morning without a hat on, and it was 15 
below, so you see we do not mind it so much. Next 
semester I take English, German, Latin and History. 
This semester will finish my language courses ex¬ 
cept perhaps German. 

George 

May 6, 1907 
Hanover, New Hampshire 

Your letter received and thank you very much. 
We are having fine weather which I hope keeps up. 
President Tucker went away today for a leave of 
absence. His heart is failing him. We certainly 
were sorry to see him go. Next week is our Junior 
Prom when all the girls come up and change the 
attitude of the college entirely! Am going to 
Worcester next week to run. The track season will 
soon be closing. 

George 
Nov. 10, 1907 

Dear Mother: 

Your fine letter came yesterday. This fall I have 
been extremely busy, never was so short of time, in 
fact, the days are not long enough for me. Next 
week the football season begins here with our an¬ 
nual game at Harvard Stadium. Yesterday we 

6 9 




HILL 7 


played Holy Cross, a Catholic College at Worcester. 
We have a very good team this year and hope to 
beat Harvard by a satisfactory margin. We beat 
Holy Cross at the same score that Yale beat them 

earlier in the season. G-and I are going down 

to the game together. I would love to see little 

R-. I suppose his mother grows prouder and 

prouder of him every day. I hope you are taking 
good care of yourself this winter, better than you 
usually do, for you must get the habit of taking care 
of yourself for you may not be able to endure the 
exposure to the cold as you have been formerly. I 
want to warn you to be careful, particularly so, and 
not to take on needless chances. — President Tucker 
is aging rapidly, though he still acts young enough 
for a man of his age. His intellect is as strong as 
ever and he appears at chapel each Sunday evening 
to deliver his usual good sermon. He is a most re¬ 
markable man in every respect, and there are few 
like him. We shall all miss him very much when he 
is gone. I hope this will not be until I have gradu¬ 
ated, for I shall like nothing better than to have his 
signature on my diploma next June. June will soon 
be here, when I hope to get that degree. I hope you 
can surely come up to see the graduating exercises, 
but if you don’t come I shall surely bring you up 
here some time. Remember what I said about tak¬ 
ing good care of yourself this winter — take life 
more easily. I hope you will take pains about this. 

George 


7 ° 





HILL 3 


George learned the joy of hill climbing on the 
high sand dune of Baldhead in Michigan. At 
Hanover, he made the acquaintance of mountain 
climbing. In order to show more clearly the oppor¬ 
tunities he had for this unusual pastime during his 
college years, we quote from the Dartmouth Outing 
Magazine. The passage will also make a fitting in¬ 
troduction for our next ascent, Hill 4, the tale of his 
experiences on Pike’s Peak in the company of his 
college classmate Mr. John Clarke. 

FROM THE DARTMOUTH OUTING MAGAZINE 

The Outing Club at Dartmouth College has nearly 100 
miles of trail over the mountain territory near the college. 
While the Winter Carnival and ski-jumping features of this 
Club are more spectacular, the real heart of this organiza¬ 
tion is the trailing of its members over the hills and far 
away, during the week-ends of the college year. This trail 
commences at the first stopping place called “ Happy Hill ” 
trail, where behind the cabin rises a wide sweep of horizon, 
across the White River to the Green Mountains, westward 
to the Franconias in the White Mountain region to the 
north, and the New Hampshire hinterland to the east. 
This situation here upon Happy Hill has a most peculiar 
charm and restfulness, with a sizable brook near and a 
never-failing spring is also near by. From this spot the trail 
leads on to Moose Mountain, the most romantic and most 
beautiful road near the Governor’s Road, which was con¬ 
structed for John Wentworth, when he made his first visit 
to Dartmouth as Governor of New Hampshire in 1771, the 
never-failing brooks beautifully sharing the views on the 
hills about as in every locality. This leads to the road north 
paralleling the Connecticut River, over the shoulder of 

7 1 



HILL 7 


Moose Mountain, then under Holt’s Ledge, rising several 
hundred feet, sheer, from the valley to the long level ridge 
of Cube Mountain. This situation on Cube Mountain is 
peculiarly charming. A grove of old birches are near enough 
shade and shelter, but not so close as to obstruct the view 
in the distance, of the conical mass of Sunday Mountains 
in Oxford and beyond the forest, several hills of Vermont. 
At the back, the mountain rises some 1500 feet above the 
cabin post and affords an unusual view of Mooselauke and 
the northern ranges. From this, the road leads on to Ar- 
mington Farm, the highest of this series of mountain ranges, 
including Lake Tarleton and Lake Catherine, where for a 
stretch about two miles long, and narrow, Armington 
washes the slopes of Piedmont Mountain. On still spring 
evenings, the only sound is the roaring of the brooks, across 
the lakes, and in winter, the roar of the wind as it comes 
from Moose Lake and the higher ranges. From Armington 
the trail leads to Glen Cliff through the wilderness, over the 
old highways, overgrown with saplings until at the Webster 
Slide, Wauchpauke Pond, the only sound is that of the lum¬ 
berman’s axe, and the country knows nothing else. From 
the top of the watershed the trail goes steeply to the valley, 
then to the village of Glen Cliff, to the Great Bear Cavern, 
the most spectacular in its situation of all the valley half¬ 
way houses. The real mountain work of all this 100-mile 
trail from Dartmouth begins from Great Bear Cabin. It 
leads up the slope of the summit, and if the day is clear, 
Tip-Top House is in view for a mile along the nearly level 
ridge of the summit. The view here is no less striking than 
that from any major peak of the White Mountains. The 
outlook to the north, and to the Franconia Range remains 
especially in the memory. This situation is a great favorite 
with the mountain enthusiasts of the camps of the New 
Hampshire and Vermont lake resorts. From Mooselauke 
Summit the trail drops to the valley past Jobildunk Ravine 

7* 



HILL 3 


over the slopes of Mount Blue to the old Kinsman Notch 
where, leaving the fantastic boulders and narrow caverns of 
Lost River it comes to its official end at the romantic and 
geologically interesting basin of Agassiz. Here beside the 
clear mountain stream and deep potholes is the northern¬ 
most cabin of the Dartmouth Outing Club. This is compara¬ 
tively inaccessible, lying at the gateway of the Franconia 
Notch, inviting the camper to continue his journey to the 
even higher Presidential range. The enthusiast may con¬ 
tinue his path through the Notch past the Old Man of the 
Mountains and the Twin Lakes, through the Northern Lit¬ 
tleton and on to Skyline Farm. There he will again find a 
small chalet, large enough to take care of those few who may 
find time enough from college work to reach this most dis¬ 
tant point from Dartmouth. During the summer of 1920 
and 1921 some three thousand and more men made this trail, 
or some part of it. 

George’s four years at college had been passed 
with great satisfaction to his family, his work had 
been done with credit to himself, and he had re¬ 
ceived several honors during his course at Dart¬ 
mouth. After commencement, in 1908, he joined 
some friends on a canoe trip down the Connecticut 
River to the Sound, then, coming west to Chicago, 
began his search for a business career at home. Dur¬ 
ing the spring of 1909, he went to Oregon. On his 
way back to Chicago in July of that year, he met in 
Denver his old college chum, John Clarke, and they 
found that there was a leisure day that they might 
spend together. How should they use that time? 
It is easy to understand how during a college course 
at Dartmouth, where the student lives surrounded 

73 



HILL 7 


by scenery and mountain atmosphere, the love of 
climbing would so enter into the very soul of one, 
that were he to live a hundred years, this call to con¬ 
quer every interesting high hill would never cease 
to be heard but would remain a compelling and 
moving force in one’s life forever. Especially would 
this be true if after leaving college one’s home were 
on the prairie, where the monotony of the plains 
would aggravate the longing and the hunger for the 
far view. Remembering thus the college experi¬ 
ences of these two youths, John Clarke and George 
Shipley, we are not surprised that they decided to 
spend their free day in what was to them the most 
glorious diversion of all and make the ascent of 
Pike’s Peak together. 

Before passing on to the scaling of this 14,000 foot 
mountain, we must stop for a moment over some¬ 
thing that occurred in St. Louis shortly before this 
great adventure in Colorado. It was not so much an 
event as a momentary burst of confidence, a few 
words simply spoken which burned themselves like 
a prophecy into the memory of him who listened, 
his nephew, G-. 

The two youths were lunching together in St. 
Louis, discussing their business affairs. Our brother 
said in a low voice: 

“ I wish I could do something for my country.” 

Tears were standing in his eyes. His heart had 
risen to his lips as he uttered these words, and his 
tears proclaimed his sincerity. 

74 




HILL 3 


Hill 4 and Hill 7 were to be stages upon which he 
would be given an opportunity to prove this sin¬ 
cerity. The first lay immediately before him. As 
he and his friend, John Clarke, began their ascent, 
he was already about to do something for his country 
— for the mountain climbing world of America. 
They neared the summit that June morning in 1909 
long before dawn, and though there were myriads of 
stars, the stage was set in darkness. Only a light 
before the Inn showed them their way upon this 
high plateau, a comparatively level spot nearly sixty 
acres in extent. But the curtain has rolled up upon 
this scene, a stage set upon a giant peak of the 
Rockies, and we must attend the tragic performance. 


75 



♦ 




fc 





















■ 











Hill 4 — Pike’s Peak 
America's most accessible mountain climb 




HILL 4 

PIKE’S PEAK 

Our most accessible mountain climb 


But the wild sheep from the battered rocks 
Sure foot and fleet of limb, 

Get up to see the stars go by. 

Along the mountain rim. 

MARY AUSTIN 

The fortunate people who have taken the famous 
tour around the world tell us of the two points, both 
in India, that impress them as being the most beauti¬ 
ful in the world. The one, produced by man’s 
hand, is the Taj Mahal. The other is a scene painted 
anew every morning by God’s hand, the sunrise 
from behind Mt. Everest, the highest peak of the 
Himalayas, as seen from Tiger Hill. This, they tell 
us, is worth the whole trip — to be in Darjeeling, at 
sunrise. So much for far-away India. In America, 
Pike’s Peak is a Darjeeling, a marvelous place to 
view the sunrise. Though not the highest, it is the 
most accessible mountain peak. Mont Blanc has 
drawn many to its summit, but Pike’s Peak has at¬ 
tracted the multitude: two million have gone well 
up its slopes, while more than a million have reached 
its summit (1921). To see the stars go by and then 
to view the sunrise from the rim of this great alti¬ 
tude, is the joy of the mountain climber. 

77 



HILL 7 


“Up close to the clouds and the sky, the big world 
far below, the scene stretches away in boundless, 
magnificent distances,” says Enos A. Mills of the 
view from almost any Rocky Mountain peak, and of 
Pike’s Peak in particular he says: it “ affords a 
unique view, — wide plains to the east, high peaks 
to the west. Sixty thousand or more square miles 
are visible from the summit. It towers far above the 
plains, whose streams, hills, and level spaces stretch 
away a vast flat picture. To the west it commands a 
wondrous array of mountain topography — a two- 
hundred-mile front of shattered, snow-drifted 
peaks.” Of the peak itself he says: it “is an enor¬ 
mous broken pyramid, dotted with high-perched 
lakes, cut with plunging streams, broken by canons, 
skirted with torn forests, old and young, and in addi¬ 
tion is beautiful with bushes, meadows and wild 
flowers. . . . The varied climate of the peak makes 
a large appeal to bird-life. Upward of one hundred 
species are found here. ... At the base the melo¬ 
dious meadowlark sings; along the streams on the 
middle slopes lives the contented water-ouzel. Upon 
the heights are the ptarmigan and the rosy finch. 
. . . No one knows how many varieties of wild flow¬ 
ers each year bloom in all the Peak’s various ragged 
zones, but there are probably no fewer than two 
thousand.” 

“ It has in the summer,” continues Mr. Mills, “ a 
pleasant climate except on the top, where often icy 


78 



HILL 4 


winds bring a blizzard for the travelers to enter as 
they complete the going to the summit.” 

Helen Hunt lived for years at the foot of Pike's 
Peak and wrote much of her work from command¬ 
ing viewpoints on this mountain. 

So about a year after leaving the hill-top atmos¬ 
phere at Hanover, the subject of our sketch had the 
opportunity to climb Pike’s Peak. He and his friend 
reached Halfway House in due time and after par¬ 
taking of a refreshing glass of milk and sending off 
a few postal cards # to friends at home, they began the 
hardest part of the achievement with high and happy 
hearts. The most arduous part of the ascent comes, 
of course, above Halfway House, but our travelers 
seem not to have loitered on this more difficult part 
of the climbing, and in their eagerness to reach the 
top in time for the viewing of the sunrise arrived 
at the plateau long before the coming of the dawn. 
For a while they rested their weary bodies, looking 
up into the dark bowl of the sky ablaze with a mil¬ 
lion worlds, but their weariness soon drove them to 
the Inn, whither a faint light guided them. 

As these tired travelers wait before the threshold 
of this Pike’s Peak Inn we must leave them for a 
moment to relate a few facts concerning the history of 
this much-sought mountain top hostelry. For twelve 
long years, or perhaps one should say, for twelve 

* One of these postals which George addressed from Halfway House 

was written to his nephew R-and reads: “ Some day I will bring you 

up here to see this.” 


79 



HILL 7 


short summers, this little Inn had had the same inn¬ 
keeper. To travelers making this journey by the 
tramcar he was generally a harmless innkeeper, but 
to those who made the climb on foot he was not 
always harmless. It is said that the thin atmosphere 
of a mountain top affects the nature of humans if 
they remain in it for any length of time, and it is 
evident that this innkeeper was at times seriously 
affected. He had grown so morose that his disposi¬ 
tion was becoming a subject of discussion among the 
mountain climbing public of America. To moun¬ 
tain climbers, not to those who rode up in tramcars, 
his door was so often inhospitable that his reputation 
with them had grown to be most unpleasant. By 
those who had made the exhausting climb and found 
him in one of his ugly moods, he was considered a 
madman. 

America’s most accessible mountain peak was 
sometimes a dangerous point to approach, for one 
might find the innkeeper refusing admittance re¬ 
gardless of icy blasts, snow storms, or blizzards. 
There are Inns in the north of England where they 
observe a closing hour, but to observe a closing hour 
upon this roof of the world would be cruel and in¬ 
human indeed. It is the duty of every innkeeper to 
be hospitable, proclaims every judge. 

What a cause this would have made for the 
Knights of the Round Table of Old England to be 
agitated over! With what haste would King Arthur 
have dispatched champions for the dangerous task 
80 



HILL 4 


of ascending the mountain and taking this inn¬ 
keeper. Facing the vicissitudes of wind and weather 
to grapple with the unstable moral equilibrium of 
this strange and unsafe character, they would have 
taken him bodily from his high post and the very 
stars would have been attentive as they watched the 
close of this innkeeper’s career upon it. 

While the Knights of the Round Table may not 
actually have been worthy of the great reputation 
we often give them now, King Arthur would surely 
have called our brother and his friend, John Clarke, 
true Knights, after their experience on Pike’s Peak. 
Both were men of honor and held in high regard by 
all who knew them. At Dartmouth they had both 
been chosen members of the student governing 
body, called Palaopitus, Mr. Clarke was a member 
of the Sphinx, both were members of the Alpha 
Delta Phi fraternity, which has honorable traditions 
dating back more than one hundred years, and 
George, as has been written, was a member of the 
Knights of the Casque and Gauntlet society. Now 
both were to have a chance to prove themselves in 
real life. 

Men, women, and even children had suffered at 
the hands of this innkeeper, had been refused admit¬ 
tance to the shelter of the inn in terrific storms. As 
these two knights stood waiting that morning at this 
inhospitable door, their presence was to mean a 
speedy end to this barbarous reception of mountain 
climbers. 

81 



HILL 7 


The annals of the adventure are short. The two 
knocked repeatedly and, after some time, weary and 
exhausted, were at last admitted to the room. The 
innkeeper himself met them and he was in his ugli¬ 
est mood, as they soon discovered. He proceeded to 
strike George with an iron sledgehammer or pipe 
that he kept behind his desk. The blow stunned 
George, and he fell bleeding to the floor, whence he 
might never have risen if John Clarke had not been 
just behind him to prevent further blows. He en¬ 
gaged the madman as best he could until George 
recovered from his faint, and then the two together 
gave such a lesson to the brutal innkeeper as King 
Arthur of ye olden time would have delighted in and 
caused to be written up in the records of his Round 
Table with the greatest pride and satisfaction. This 
deserved blow made the man unconscious however 
and until his recovery from his deep faint the boys 
were in very great trouble. To twentieth century 
authorities their knightly deed might require ex¬ 
plaining. However, as soon as their plight became 
known to the public, especially the mountain¬ 
climbing public, a strange and enlightening thing 
happened: their mothers began to receive messages 
and letters from all parts of the country. People 
who had suffered like indignities at the hands of this 
madman, as they called him, were anxious that the 
mothers should know the true character of the Pike’s 
Peak innkeeper. And Mrs. Clarke and Mrs. Shipley 
were soon made aware of the fact that their sons had 
82 



HILL 4 


been true knights of King Arthur’s Round Table 
when they interrupted the services of this innkeeper, 
services that had been an increasing menace to all 
lovers of this mountain climb. The innkeeper was 
deposed from his lofty post on Pike’s Peak and now, 
living under normal conditions, may, it is hoped, 
have been restored to the hospitable inclinations so 
necessary to his profession. 

George brought with him from Colorado a box, 
which he gave to the writer, containing the shirt he 
had worn when attacked by the innkeeper on Pike’s 
Peak. It was covered with bloodstains but, alas! 
though she valued this shirt because of the mute 
testimony it gave to George’s sufferings that morn¬ 
ing upon the mountain peak, yet she was guilty of 
carelessness in regard to it. In the Memories of Lord 
Redesdale, the following incident is given. We 
quote from page 26, vol. 1: 

“ Among the treasures which are at Ashburnham is one 
of the two shirts worn by King Charles the First at his execu¬ 
tion. Everybody remembers how the king insisted on wear¬ 
ing two shirts lest on that cold January morning he should 
shiver and men should think that it was from fear. The 
shirt was kept as a sacred relic by our ancestor John Ash¬ 
burnham who attended his majesty on the scaffold; it was 
deeply stained with the blood of the Martyr. When my 
grandmother came back from Florence she asked the house¬ 
keeper where the shirt was. 

“ ‘ Quite safe, my lady, but it was so stained that I have 
had it washed.’ 

“ The pity of it! The second shirt is at Windsor.” 

83 



HILL 7 


The more’s the pity, said Lord Redesdale, and we 
sadly echo those words as we remember the loss of 
the shirt which George had worn that day on Pike’s 
Peak and which he had so carefully brought home to 
show us, knowing we would value it because of its 
bloodstains. 

When the World War broke out in 1914, George 
and his mother had taken a suite at the pleasant 
boarding establishment of Miss Bliss on Lake Street, 
in Oak Park. Very soon after this, in September, 
the Chicago papers began publishing the need of 
men, and especially requesting college men to take 
up intensive military training. George became a 
member of those gatherings of young men who met 
at the armories to plan the study of military tactics 
together. Later he was enrolled with Battery E, 
First Illinois Field Artillery and reported two or 
three times a week for this training. In the autumn, 
his mother having gone to make her home with a 
sister, he took up his residence in the city to be near 
the armory, and from that time on all his interest was 
quite swallowed up in the World War. He was as¬ 
sociated with the Butler Brothers mail order house 
and maintained his position there until he must 
needs go to Fort Sheridan in 1917 for war work in 
real earnest. 

The summer of 1916 was spent with Battery E, 
First Illinois Field Artillery, at the front in Texas, 
and the letters written home in those days from the 
south are here given — in fact, few of the letters 

84 



HILL 4 


George wrote during the war years of his life have 
been omitted. They set forth anew, in fresh and 
appealing form, it seems to us, the life of any young 
American soldier in any war. They are given just 
as he wrote them. 

(A postal) 

Enroute 

Dear M: 

I sure did celebrate the 4th, by breaking camp 
yesterday. Left Camp Lincoln last night and we are 
started for the border. Left under sealed orders 
and our destination is a mystery. Probably San An¬ 
tonio or El Paso. Everything fine. 

George 

July 12, 1916 
San Antonio, Tex. 

Dear Mother: 

I have what they call “ Town Leave ” and this eve¬ 
ning have come into San Antonio to enjoy the novel 
and interesting sights of the city. We are getting 
more or less acclimated to this part of the country 
and are quite comfortable through the heat. We 
are drilling now regularly twice a day and you 
would agree with me if you saw me that this life is 
doing me lots of good. We get up at five and usually 
sleep in the middle of the day when it is hottest. I 
wish I could tell you in an interesting way the in¬ 
teresting things we see here and will try to do so 

85 




HILL 7 


before we leave here. Presume we will be here for 
a month, because the drill is very necessary. The 
townspeople are very good to us and hospitable. 
Must journey now back to camp and join my com¬ 
rades in arms. It seems almost too good to be true 
that you are really enjoying your stay at St. Luke’s 
Hospital. Get well now before I get home. Good 
luck to you and heaps of love. 

George 

July 14, 1916 
Camp Wilson 

Dear Mother: 

Am sitting in my tent writing on a piece of board 
and reflecting on the novelty of this camp life. We 
are gradually getting into shape but it is slow prog¬ 
ress. Our horses are all new and we are having con¬ 
siderable difficulty in getting them to behave! 
Hardly a day passes but some one is seated upon the 
ground with abrupt suddenness. The Guard is 
mounting now for the night; and this occasion calls 
for a great deal of ceremony on the part of its 
buglers. I can hear a regular concert going on, in 
fact this whole camp works by the bugle. We eat, 
sleep and work by the bugle — all by the bugle. 
Fort Houston is a United States Army Headquarters 
and besides the regular army soldiers who live here, 
in barracks, there is the State Militia and the whole 
camp is an enormous collection of tents — and the 
bugle reigns supreme. I received a letter from your 
86 



HILL 4 


nurse. Thank her for me. You must be well now 
when I get home. 

George 

July 20, 1916 
Camp Wilson 

Dear Mother: 

I received your letter of the 17th. Sorry to hear 
that the heat is troublesome. We don’t seem to 
mind it here near as much, but it does get awfully 
hot in the middle of the day. The evenings are gen¬ 
erally quite cool. We have about six stable boys 
here who break the horses in, that is, get them used 
to the saddle and bit, then they are turned over to 
the battery to break to the different manoeuvres and 
harnessed to the cannon and caissons. I will get all 
my clothes given to me but I don’t believe the gov¬ 
ernment will give us the horses! We are very busy 
right now drilling for examinations. You must 
understand that firing cannon is dangerous business 
to those who do not understand it, so that we are 
given examinations which we have to pass before we 
become first class gunners. If a man becomes a 
gunner by passing a required standard then he is 
allowed to shoot real ammunition. I think we will 
have target practice after the exams. Now I guess 
you can see why we have to keep drilling so much. 
How long we will be here it is hard to tell, no one 
seems to know, and the papers are in the same fix. 
I am thinking that they might send us to the border 
87 




HILL 7 


to relieve those who are there now, but I am sure 
that I will be home in the fall again. We have 
plenty of food, sometimes the variety is meagre. For 
supper last night we had macaroni, corn on the cob, 
beets, lemonade and graham biscuits. The shower 
baths are working in good order, and it certainly 
seems fine, after a hot day, to stand under the cooling 
water. There is one thing the army is doing here, 
and that is to equip us with clothes. We are getting 
two pair of shoes, socks, underwear, slickers, khaki 
trousers, blouses and so forth. I don’t know what 
we are going to do with it all. I wish I could get 
into some quiet corner and write a long letter, but 
it is very difficult to write in this tent on a board. 
Will be very busy. 

George 

July 27, 1916 

Camp Wilson 

Dear Mother: 

Everything is going along in good shape — there 
is very little sickness in the camp. I am sitting out¬ 
side my tent now writing letters on a mess table. 
Looking up and down thru the street I can see one 
of the most gorgeous of sunsets. The sunrise and 
sunsets are very beautiful and the evenings are as 
cool and pleasant as one could wish. It gets very 
hot here during the day, but 105 is not as bad as 
you would think — I take the heat very easily. We 


88 




HILL 4 


are having a spread tonight because there are officers 
from other camps visiting us today, a Colonel and a 
Lt. Colonel among them. This morning we took a 
long ride around the country with our horses and 
cannon and there was no accident of any kind, show¬ 
ing that the horses are getting good training now. 
Four horses are hitched to a cannon and caisson — 
we left at seven and were back at ten-thirty. 

George 

July 30, 1916 
Camp Wilson 

Dear Mother: 

Am in the Y. M. C. A. Headquarters writing, and 
find it a very convenient place. There has been 
much rain of late and everything is very damp. The 
days are warm but the nights cool. The people just 
live on their roofs at night, and it is delightful to 
take dinner at a roof garden. It has rained so much 
that the place is covered with mud and it is hard to 
get about, but the tents are fine and dry, being 
absolutely waterproof. We have no kick coming 
for, considering all the difficulty in getting all the 
state organization mobilized, things are going ex¬ 
tremely well. Every morning we go around the 
country with our horses and cannon, trying new 
formations, and are doing very well, it all being so 
new to all of us. 

George 


89 



HILL 7 


July 30, 1916 
Camp Wilson 

Dear M: 

This outdoor life is certainly putting me in fine 
physical shape. It has been a long time since I felt 
so well. It looks as though we would be here all fall 
and part of the winter too. Do you think mother 
will be all right if she knows that? We go tomorrow 
for a three days’ hike, and after that we leave for 
Leon Springs for two weeks, for target practice, 
about twenty-five miles from here. The weather is 
about the same, some rain but cool evenings, and 
tonight there is a full moon and the evening is great. 

George 

P.S. I have two horses assigned to me, one is a very 
good single mount and rides very easily. 

August 14, 1916 

Dear Mother: 

It is Sunday evening, a full moon on my left and 
a lantern on my right so there is plenty of light. 
Am sitting in the mess hall at the table. This is a 
new addition to the camp with tables and we are 
quite proud of it, having eaten our meals off the 
ground or in our tents, on our cots, for six or eight 
weeks. It has a wooden roof but the sides are 
screened, making a very cool place to be in. The 
place is clean, in fact the whole camp is scrupulously 
clean. We came back from our hike yesterday in 
90 



HILL 4 


fine shape. Am getting used to the saddle and am 
sleeping like a top. The camp is a beautiful place 
tonight with a full moon, looking down upon all 
these tents. There is no suggestion of war here. 
The Government has furnished us with three blan¬ 
kets, leather leggings, a pair of spurs, a 45 Colt re¬ 
volver, cotton khaki clothes and other things, so you 
see we are getting prepared for war — or to go 
home, I don’t know which. Lately I have been pull¬ 
ing my cot out into the open, sleeping with the sky 
above me — it is a wonderful way to sleep. Our 
battery is making a fine record for efficiency, and 
Col. Ryan has complimented our Captain on several 
different occasions. The last time he said — we put 
it all over Battery C. 

George 
Camp Wilson 

Dear M: 

Have been very busy since five this morning, get¬ 
ting horses and cannon ready for Leon Springs — we 
leave Thursday, the 17th, and the whole Battery 
goes along, the principal reason being to get some 
real target practice. It will be the first time we have 
shot real ammunition with the cannon. Riding the 
horses is quite exciting, much more than you think, 
for the horses are new, some absolutely new, un¬ 
trained to harness, let alone to make manoeuvres. 
However, we are getting along pretty well, with only 
a few accidents. There have been so many pictures 

9 1 



HILL 7 


taken of us here, by the Chicago newspaper men, am 
wondering if you have seen any of them yet. We 
had 30 new horses come today and they are making 
things quite lively for a few of us. One thing makes 
me sore — everything our Battery does that is un¬ 
usually good, is published in the Chicago papers as 
having been done by Battery C. 

George 

Aug. 16, 1916 
Camp Wilson 

Dear M: 

At the last minute had to remain in camp and 
give up the trip to Leon Springs, because of a 
sprained wrist. One of these rascal horses of ours 
threw me just two hours before our Battery was to 
leave. Wasn’t that the worst luck? I sure was dis¬ 
appointed to be obliged to stay here in camp, but 
there was nothing else to do. I hadn’t half a chance 
to stay on that horse, with only a halter — I was 
bareback and leading another horse, so was badly 
handicapped — was bringing the two horses from 
the army shoeing post and had ridden back to the 
camp over a mile, was giving them a drink of water, 
when on trying to mount again was thrown and 
landed on my right wrist — and here I am for ten 
days. It is quite sore but will soon mend, am sure. 
I have thought of your sprain and am mighty glad it 
was not my ankle, for as it is, can walk about and do 
not have to be confined to bed. The camp is very 

9 * 



HILL 4 


lonesome tonight, but there are sixteen men left on 
guard. 

George 

Aug. 19, 1916 
Hospital, San Antonio 

Dear Mother: 

Now it is my turn to be in the hospital. I am 
here for perhaps three weeks with a broken wrist, 
but am getting along fine. This is the coolest place 
I have struck yet, with everything open, wide 
porches, and fine view all around. They say I 
can move my bed out on the porch tomorrow. I 
have expert medical attention — so am not so bad 
after all. This is the regular hospital, the place is 
very clean, the doctors are officers. The one I have 
is an awfully nice one but I won’t have occasion to 
see him much longer now, it is just a case of waiting 
until the bone knits and by that time, am ready 
to leave. Don’t have to be waited on much, just 
have my meat cut at meals. Am very sorry for the 
fellows that have to lie in bed all the time. Write 
me when you can. 

George 

Aug. 23, 1916 
Army Hospital 

Dear Mother: 

My wrist is progressing fine — and will be soon 
about duties again. Hope I did not alarm you. Am 

93 



HILL 7 


sleeping a hundred percent and weighing the same 
— the food is surprisingly good, I feel like a man 
who had a job that gave him no work between meals. 
Weather here is great, sleep outside every night on 
the porch. 

George 

Aug. 29, 1916 
Camp Wilson 

Dear Mother: 

Will try and answer your long and welcome letter 
that came Sunday. As far as my wrist is concerned, 
have nothing to report, it is slowly knitting and in 
about ten days will be recovered as far as the hospi¬ 
tal is concerned. Did I write you how the wind¬ 
storm blew our tents at Camp Wilson — it also blew 
the roof all off the headquarters mess hall. The 
tents are being slowly raised again, there being few 
here to do it. I guess it was a lucky place to be here 
in the Hospital the night of the storm. There is a 
very interesting place right here, rich in historical 
interest, called the Alamo. Read about it, if you 
can find a history of it. Have been all through it 
today and enjoyed very much the privilege of being 
able to do this. The Southerner considers this 
shrine a very sacred place, and the old fort is right 
in the center of the Alamo, and being in the center 
of the business district presents a very picturesque 
relief from the stores and places of business. 

George 


94 



HILL 4 


Sept. 5, 1916 

~ .. Base Hospital 

Dear M: r 

I am sure getting sick of this rendezvous for the 
disabled men. Am counting the days with pleasure 
when I can turn my back upon it. It is getting on 
my nerves, this confinement. We will get away by 
Friday. Our regiment leaves Leon Springs next 
Sunday, I think, and I will join them here. We go 
on the longest hike of all, to Austin, about eighty 
miles from here, a week on the way, a week there 
and another returning, then home. We should 
reach Illinois by the 15th, surely. I can’t ride a 
horse so will sit on a cannon, and turn the brakes. 
Am glad for a chance to harden up, after this con¬ 
finement. It has put me in need of exercise. Camp 
Wilson is no more, the name has been changed to 
Camp Lyon, and all our tents have been taken up 
and stored in a Government warehouse — and from 
now on we will be enjoying life in pup tents. We 
are greatly disappointed in our regiment, for our 
Captain Reilly of E Battery has been transferred to 
General Headquarters with the regular army. He 
was a splendid captain, and I suppose we will lose 
him. He has made the best record for a single bat¬ 
tery in the target service, so far, at the Springs. His 
being placed on detached service means that, per¬ 
haps, he will go into Mexico, I think, on secret service. 
The whole bunch are in the dumps, because he is 
nearly worshipped by the whole Battery. G 


95 



HILL 7 


Sept. 11, 1916 
Base Hospital 

Dear Mother: 

Expect to be here in the hospital until next Satur¬ 
day. It is just impossible to get out of here sooner. 
Had my hand out of the splint today, while it was 
being dressed, and could wiggle it about and 
thought sure the doctor would take off the splint, 
but no, “Just a few more days ” he said. Am get¬ 
ting used to that “ just a few more days ” stuff. Yes¬ 
terday we took a ride in our battery Ford, out to 
Leon Springs, twenty miles, where our Battery are 
engaged in target practice. It was a wonderful ride, 
on a paved way almost all the way, through a very 
beautiful country, a wild hill region, full of stunted 
trees and cactus. The boys out there are all looking 
well, hard as rocks, and don’t hear a kick coming 
from any one of them, and they surely have been up 
against it, right and left, with all sorts of things. 
Came back in the evening and reached the hospital 
in good shape. George 

After George’s return from Texas, in October, 
1916, he took his former position with Butler Broth¬ 
ers and also lived at his old address, 159 East Chicago 
Avenue, Chicago. Here, with his friend, Glen 
Tisdale, of Battery E, he passed a very pleasant 
winter. 

The following letter, written in March, 1917, 
shows the trend of their thoughts in those days, and 
96 



HILL 4 


as our country entered the war the next month, 
April, 1917, succeeding letters give his military ex¬ 
perience up until his last letters from France. 

March 14, 1917 
159 East Chicago Avenue, Chicago 

Dear Mother: 

Am dropping you a line just to assure you that 
everything is going along nicely here in Chicago. 
We are having real March weather, rain all day, then 
a day of snow, then sunshine and warmth. I have 
not been asked to take down my uniform yet, altho 
by that time, hope we will be having better weather. 
These are certainly stirring times, aren’t they? It 
takes a great deal to get people excited nowadays. 
I have been enjoying the movies lately, because they 
have so many pictures of military life — and to me 
they are more enjoyable than anything else, very 
exciting scenes in the war district. My room-mate, 
Glen, has been quite busy these days, as he has been 
made a sergeant of our Battery, which takes a great 
deal of his time. He is hard at it, all the time. There 
are so many things to do. We drill once a week, as 
usual, and most of us are taking a course of lectures, 
given by a regular army officer, with the purpose in 
view of training us to become officers, eventually. I 
have been reading books on military matters and 
perhaps I can get, bye and bye, enough knowledge 
laid by, to pass an examination. 


97 


George 



HILL 7 


March 22 , 1917 
159 East Chicago Ave. 

Dear Mother: 

At present am very busy, studying to prepare for 
examination for the Officers’ Training Camp, and 
will probably take the examination the first of next 
week. Have been doing quite a bit of horseback¬ 
riding lately, going to Jackson Park and Washington 
Park, and as the weather has been very pleasant it 
has been very enjoyable — great exercise these days, 
with the mind upon the trouble that is imminent. 
The papers tonight seem to think we are on the 
brink of war and I suppose, by the first of next 
month, we will be getting ready to defend ourselves, 
in case of need. Am very glad now, that I went out 
before, for this previous experience will come in 
handy. Am inclined to take all these things calmly, 
since I know from past experience practically what 
we will have to do. 

George 

April 10, 1917 
Chicago 

Dear Mother: 

Don’t allow your mind to get excited or worried 
about anything, mother, just keep as calm as you 
can, all the time, until I get back from the war, and 
then, when I am back, I will come and get you and 
we will live together, in some nice, quiet place, any¬ 
where you want to live. 

George 


98 



HILL 4 


Don’t let yourself get worried about me — over any¬ 
thing, mother. G 

April 20 , 1917 
Chicago 

Dear Mother: 

Just a few lines to let you know that I am still 
here and the probability is that I shall be up at Ft. 
Sheridan most of the summer, at the officers training 
camp. Things are in a very unsettled state here but 
as far as I know, we will start to Ft. Sheridan May 
the 8th, to live there for three months and then be 
assigned to some organization, with a permanent 
job, if I manage to qualify at Ft. Sheridan, which I 
think I can do. 

George 

May 2 3, 1917 
Ft. Sheridan 

Dear Mother: 

The weather this week is certainly abominable, 
and enough to make anyone disgusted. There is a 
breeze coming off the lake today that is nothing 
short of a gale — it is none too warm either, so we 
are hugging our huts and not going far from our 
stoves. We live in long wooden structures, holding 
each about 70 men, then, there is to each company 
one long mess hall which feeds about 170 men at a 
time. The food we eat is fine, the cooking good, all 
done by darkies. Among other things they make a 
good, old-fashioned bread pudding with dip and 

99 



HILL 7 


raisins. We have shower baths in another building, 
everything first class. Templeton has got the cot 
across from mine. I have six blankets, so don’t 
worry about me. 

George 

June 26, 1917 
Ft. Sheridan 

Dear Mother: 

We have had a hot day today but I have no kick 
coming, after the cold weather we have had up here. 
We are studying hard, and the training is intensive, 
believe me, in every sense of the word. I enjoyed 
Helen Woodcock’s wedding last Saturday night and 
a visit to the Oak Park Country Club. It is a very 
nice club for Oak Park. Will be over to see you but 
must wait until I get special leave to come, as I could 
not get back in the usual time allotted to us for week¬ 
end leave. 

George 
Ft. Sheridan 

Dear Mother: 

It is raining hard today and this morning dismal 
outside, but makes a good time to write letters. To¬ 
day the last quota arrived and by the end of the week 
there will be nearly 40,000 soldiers here, an entire 
division. It is called the 86th National Army Di¬ 
vision. I hear of National Guard men going over to 
France now, and if I had remained in my old Battery 


100 



HILL 4 


E that I went to Texas with, I would be leaving for 
France within a week. Sometimes I wish I had stayed 
with it, because I don’t believe we will be going over 
for a long time. It gets monotonous here. Did you 
know that Kingman Douglass is in France now, with 
the Aviation Corps? Glen’s father sent him an auto 
to use — pretty nice? 

George 


July 5, 1917 

Ft. Sheridan 

Dear Mother: 

We are getting so awfully busy here, having writ¬ 
ten examinations and lectures and map-drawing ses¬ 
sions of the fort here. I tell you, it is a strange game 
and the time just flies. Yesterday was the 4th and I 
took Glen out to the Oak Park Country Club, we had 
dinner there and it was very enjoyable — I think 
Glen, especially, enjoyed today. G and M — 
joined us at dinner. They had been motoring all 
day out to Wheaton. We had to leave early, at a 
quarter of eight, and it took us just a half hour to 
reach the N. W. depot. 

George 

July 23, 1917 
Ft. Sheridan 

Dear Mother: 

We have only three weeks left here and then, it I 
get a commission, will go out to Rockford, I think. 





HILL 7 


You need not worry yet about the marching orders to 
France; not until next January or later. A great big 
army, green, has to be trained before they can go to 
Europe. It will take a long time. They must be fur¬ 
nished with clothes and arms and then trained in 
their use. 

George 

Aug. 2, 1917 
Chicago 

Dear Mother: 

How have you been standing this hot weather? 
We are taking it very easy tonight — but it is much 
cooler tonight. Am feeling fine, and especially as it 
is nearing the time when the commissions are handed 
out to us. They have been sending many of the boys 
home, because they did not show signs of making 
good officers. I hope to get one, but am not sure. 
Next Saturday we all march down in the loop parade 
which will take all day, but we ride down town so it 
won’t be so bad. Last night we took a march with the 
guns and camped out all night in our pup tents and 
cooked our own meals, and had quite a time. Wish 
you could have tasted the fried potatoes I made. 

George 

Aug. 9, 1917 

Ft. Sheridan 

Dear Mother: 

We had instructions to remain in camp this week 
end and so cannot come to see you, but will come the 


102 



HILL 4 


next Saturday. We are very much excited here as 
the lists are being made out, naming those who get 
commissions. Don’t expect to hear from mine until 
next week. Our camp is nearly over and we are quite 
busy packing up and getting ready for the next move. 
The study periods are over and we haven’t done 
much of that this week. Am expecting to be com¬ 
missioned in the quartermaster corps, and these do 
not come with the other announcements but come 
later, so if you do not see my name in the paper at 
first, don’t be surprised. We are having fine weather 
and it is real summer here. 

George 

Aug. 16, 1917 
Chicago 

Dear Mother: 

Our camp is over now and in the moving out and 
getting commissions and all, have been very busy, 
and this is my first opportunity to write. I am going 
to Saugatuck, will attend Adelaide Caldwell’s wed¬ 
ding, and will spend a few days there resting up. On 
my way back will stop with you so you can expect me 
there now, in about a week. Will write or ’phone 
you. Suppose you know from the papers that I re¬ 
ceived my commission and will be an officer in the 
quartermaster corps. Will go out to Rockford on 
the 29th, for our next experience. In the meantime, 
am getting a little vacation which seems mighty good. 
The streets down town are full of the newly made offi- 
103 




HILL 7 


cers, and it certainly keeps me busy trying to buy all 
the things we are supposed to get, before leaving for 
the Rockford Camp. 

George 

Aug. 28 , 1917 

Chicago 

Dear Mother: 

Went out to Oak Park yesterday — went to G-s 

and enjoyed their new home which is very nice. 
Visited with Marjorie. Am just leaving for Rockford 
and when I get settled there, will write you a full 
description of Camp Grant. Hope to get over to see 
you some week end soon. 

George 

Sept. 22 , 1917 
Camp Grant 

Dear Mother: 

It is chilly here, this morning, but we are in need 
of the rain we are having, on account of the dust. 
We have plenty of warm bedding so do not worry 
about my sleeping cold. Theodore Roosevelt was 
here in camp yesterday, and the camp had a big turn¬ 
out to meet this enthusiastic old gentleman. He is 
looking well and vigorous for a man who has been 
through these strenuous times he has made for him¬ 
self. It is very pretty country around here, on the 
Rock River, and the farms all seem very prosperous. 

104 




HILL 4 


Would not mind owning one of these excellent farms 
in this neighborhood. 

George 

Oct. 23, 1917 
Camp Grant 

Dear Mother: 

It is snowing here this morning but we are very 
comfortable, nevertheless. I suppose the snow will 
turn later to rain and make the camp a very muddy 
affair. Hope to get over for Thanksgiving Day with 
you. Will let you know soon. 

George 

Nov. 21, 1917 
Camp Grant 

Dear Mother: 

Your good letter came today and I think you do 
very well, writing such a long one, after your illness. 
It is just impossible for me to get to you for Thanks¬ 
giving week-end, but if I am ordered to another camp 
we will get a few days off, before leaving, and will 
come to say good-bye, surely. We are to have a little 
banquet of our own here, just the officers of our com¬ 
pany, for Thanksgiving Day, and I surely will be on 
hand for that. I haven’t any orders yet and may not 
get any, but it would not surprise me if we were all 
ordered to Jacksonville, Fla. before Christmas. 

George 


105 



HILL 7 


George spent Thanksgiving Day at the home of 
Captain Lounsberry, and, among the letters that we 
received after his death was one from Mrs. Louns¬ 
berry, from which the following is an extract: 

I shall always cherish the memory of that day; I can 
know something of what it must be to give up such a 
splendid brother. My husband, Capt. Lounsberry, 
greatly admired him, and if he were here, would join 
me in sympathy to you and his mother. 

Elizabeth Lounsberry 

On December 2nd, George came from Camp 
Grant to Chicago to say good-bye to his family, since 
he was soon to leave for an eastern camp. He spent 
the day in shopping, securing the many articles re¬ 
quired of an officer before leaving. The evening 
hours were spent with his mother and sisters, he and 
his mother sitting hand in hand before the grate fire. 
He was heard to say: “ Whatever may happen to me, 
I shall never cease to thank God for this evening.” 
As he left us and we were waving our farewell, at the 
foot of the stairs he turned about, calling out to his 
womenfolk: “ Good-bye, this is a man’s job.” His 
last note from Camp Grant follows: 

Dec. 3, 1917 
Camp Grant 

Dear Mother: 

Thought I would drop you a line this morning to 
let you know I am back in camp safely. There was a 
106 



HILL 4 


wreck on the midnight train to Rockford last night, 
but I was not on it — and I think no one was badly 
hurt. 

George 

Dec. 18, 1917 
Hotel Mason, Jacksonville, Fla. 

Dear Mother: 

Here I am at last located now and can find a few 
minutes to drop you a line. My train was 14 hours 
late and all were late more or less, but the trip was 
not so bad. We did not leave the snow until after 
we had left Atlanta, Ga. They tell us here that the 
weather is unusually cold for this part of the coun¬ 
try. This is a beautiful town and the ride out to 
camp is wonderful. The camp itself is laid out in a 
very pretty spot with plenty of nice foliage. Part 
of the way we ride through a sort of forest with 
Spanish moss drooping down from the trees and it 
makes me think of pictures I have seen of South 
America. We are located on the St. John River 
which is of course salt water and you get all kinds 
of sea food in the restaurants, lobsters, shrimps, 
crabs with melted butter. 

George 

Dec. 20, 1917 
Camp Johnston 

Dear M: 

We are having our first good day today. I mean 
exceptionally good and it is just like a spring day in 
107 



HILL 7 


the month of May and the Florida sunshine just 
streams down on us all day long and we have been 
going around with no coats on and it is the 20th of 
December. Have a couple of classmates here, 
friends I used to pal around with in college. We 
have just been down on the docks where the boats 
come in from Jacksonville. The river here is very 
wide more like a bay two or three miles across and 
today is as smooth as glass. The dock was filled with 
soldiers fishing for crabs, large ones, and the south¬ 
ern darkies are lounging around, stevedores they call 
them, jibing each other in the sunshine with their 
jokes and chatter. I can see several of them now un¬ 
loading bricks from the boat, one especially, black as 
the ace of spades, with a red bandanna tied around 
his neck, another in low shoes with no socks on. I 
don’t suppose there is a one of them who has a 
nickel in his pocket yet they are all as happy and 
carefree as you can imagine. From the end of the 
pier looking toward the shore there is a bathing 
house built before the camp was. The shore has a 
thick growth of trees that droop heavily with thick 
Spanish moss and makes me think I am down in the 
jungles of Africa. It has a weird effect. Beyond the 
trees are the barracks. The windows are all open 
today and soldiers sitting around in them and out¬ 
side on the steps. The river is salt water and has a 
tide of about 4 feet and quite a few alligators al¬ 
though I have not seen any yet. The drinking water 
is awful. That is it is sulphur, but good for the 
108 



HILL 4 


nerves they say. Most of the boys buy spring water 
10 cents a bottle and very good tasting. About the 
only kick we have is the mess. It was let out to some 
party down here and he is trying to get rich on it, 
not nearly as good as Camp Grant and it costs us 
twice as much. You see we have not time here to 
run our own mess. We have from Saturday until 
Wednesday for the Christmas holidays and I think 
I will take the trip down to St. Augustine. 

George 

Dec. 24, 1917 
Camp Johnston 

Dear Mother: 

Here it is Christmas eve and I am way down here 
in this Florida town. Am waiting for one of the 
boys and then we are going out to see the fire works. 
It may seem funny to you but that is what they do 
on Christmas eve, shoot off fire works instead of the 
4th of July. This afternoon I took a long walk 
along the river. It seemed like a warm day in May. 
The weather the last few days has been just wonder¬ 
ful, warm and nice, and we never think of wearing 
overcoats. The weather here depends upon the sun, 
if that is shining it is all O.K. and they say it is 
shining most of the time. This afternoon saw quite a 
few soldiers fishing for lobsters, others in row boats 
and sailboats making quite a summerlike scene. 
Some of the trees are covered with Spanish moss 
drooping down and giving the trees a very tropical 
109 




HILL 7 


effect something I have never seen before except in 
pictures. There are orange groves across the river 
and down toward St. Augustine and alligators bask¬ 
ing in the sun and we hear some of the boys talk 
about picking tangerines off the trees. It seems 
strange after leaving Chicago in a blizzard. The 
drinking water here is full of sulphur and they say 
it is good for you and I am drinking it right along. 
Well, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. Per¬ 
haps after the war, we can come down here to¬ 
gether. Love to all. 

George 

Jan. 8, 1918 
Jacksonville 

Dear Mother: 

There has been a lot of officers sent away from 
here lately, and orders are continually coming in, so 
am figuring that I may be leaving here before long, 
in a month or so. 

George 

Jan. 16, 1918 
Savannah 

Dear Mother: 

Well, am on the move again, as you see. Am 
taking the trip from Jacksonville to Baltimore, by 
boat, and have six hours here to wait while they take 
on more cargo. I sat out on deck all morning yes¬ 
terday and was quite comfortable. The steamer is 


110 



HILL 4 


large and very nice, with fine meals. The Atlantic 
this morning was calmer than Lake Michigan, but 
they tell us that it is often rough near Cape Hatteras. 
Sunday we sail up Chesapeake Bay, and as they say 
it is full of ice, am preparing for colder weather. 
This is the last town where I can view the palm trees 
and am surely sorry for that. Am on my way to 
Camp Meade, which is near Baltimore, where I 
shall be for another two months or so, probably. 

George 


(Post Card) 

Jan.-1918 

St. Augustine 

Dear I: 

Am taking the trip to Baltimore — will write you 
from there. Nice and warm here. Have you dug 
out of the snow yet, in Chicago? 

George 


111 





















' . 




. 

. 
































* 













' 














« 













V 

I 



Hill 5—Arlington 
Viewing the city of Washington 








HILL 5 

ARLINGTON 
Viewing the Capital City 

For all we are and have. 

For all our children's fate, 

Stand up and take the War, 

The Hun is at the gate. 

From Kipling’s “Trumpet Call to Arms,” in 1914 

Born of a lively and intelligent patriotism, George 
wrote his mother: “ I would be ashamed not to go to 
France when so many have gone before me.” On 
one occasion, however, he had a chill foreboding of 
the day to come. Who could foresee the future? — 
surely not George with his blithesome nature and 
buoyant outlook upon life, but on this occasion, and 
this only, he seemed to glimpse what the event would 
be for him. Too much weight must not be attached, 
of course, to words uttered conversationally as he 
sat in the barber’s chair. But they have a place in 
this record. He and the barber were discussing 
American casualties when he exclaimed: “ I don’t 
believe I’ll ever get back.” 

This, the one time when a presentiment seemed 
to possess him was but a sudden qualm, quickly over, 
for in the main his letters were extremely cheerful 



HILL 7 


and he seemed not again to have the slightest appre¬ 
hensive solicitude for the future. After going East, 
especially, sheer exuberant, careless joy seemed to 
reign in his heart. At Camp Meade new ambitions 
began to creep in upon his fancy. “ You will smile," 
he wrote home, “ when I tell you that I have a staff 
consisting of a sergeant and two privates, and I now, 
too, have a private office with my own desk; and I 
also have a horse for my own personal use." He 
fully expected to be made a captain since he was 
rendering a captain’s service here at Camp Meade. 

While he was nursing these few ambitious dreams 
and getting immersed in the stern, strenuous duties 
of his new situation at Camp Meade, his active mind 
began to take on a larger sweep in its march. This 
was his first visit East since his graduation at Hano¬ 
ver, New Hampshire, in 1908, and the week-ends of 
leisure suggested great possibilities to him. He 
could go and see his old college friend, John Clarke, 
in his home at Greenwich, Connecticut; visit an 
uncle in New York, his mother’s only brother; re¬ 
visit Philadelphia and the scene of one of his greatest 
athletic triumphs; have his family come east and 
with them see Washington and its surroundings. 

Had he been an older man he might have chosen 
to spend some of that time looking up places which 
were of traditional interest to his family because of 
the colonial, revolutionary and civil war records that 
had been made by his ancestors and connections in 
the Fitz Randolph and Shipley families. From Bos- 
114 



HILL 5 


ton, where his great-grandfather, Henry Shipley, had 
enlisted in 1776 in the Continental Army with the 
Maryland company under Captain Thomas, he 
might have gone down through New York, New Jer¬ 
sey, Maryland and Pennsylvania, where other an¬ 
cestors had helped make the history of our country 
in heroic and self-sacrificing service. On Long 
Island his great-grandfather had fought in the battle 
of Long Island and escaped from the British by 
swimming across East River, being one of seventeen 
safely to cross the waters, the rest perishing on 
account of the ice that hampered their progress. He 
might have seen Valley Forge where the same ances¬ 
tor served that terrible winter with Washington. 
How he would have loved a visit to Monmouth, New 
Jersey, where an ancestor, Robert Carr, had lived 
during revolutionary days, and upon whose estates 
there at Monmouth, now called Freehold, Washing¬ 
ton enjoyed his first victory in the American Revo¬ 
lution. And would he not have been deeply in¬ 
terested in a visit to Barnstable, Massachusetts, 
which was founded by his ancestor, Edward Fitz 
Randolph? To look upon the ancient records and 
read the name of its first citizen, his ancestor, the 
Pilgrim who landed on our shores in 1628, and 
whose future wife, Betty Blossom, had come over in 
the last trip of the Mayflower in 1620, would have 
had vital meaning for him. 

How he would have revelled in a visit to Prince¬ 
ton University, for its original campus was given to 

115 



HILL 7 


the college by a member of his family, Nathaniel 
Fitz Randolph, who had not only presented a tract 
of 20 acres as his gift to the college but had raised a 
large sum for the building of old Nassau Hall, which 
stands upon this campus, now one of the most 
famous old buildings extant in our country. Nassau 
Hall was once the seat of government of the United 
States, and upon its steps Washington received the 
praise and plaudits of his army, as he bade them 
farewell. The bronze gates to the campus open only 
on great occasions, such as commencement time or 
when some distinguished visitor enters the famous 
old hall. The name, Nathaniel Fitz Randolph, is 
emblazoned upon these gates, to commemorate his 
gift, more than a century and a half ago, to the Uni¬ 
versity of Princeton, or Princetown as it was then 
called. 

Although Lieutenant Shipley did not make these 
interesting journeys, he did ascend the famous hill 
of Arlington, that great cemetery of Virginia, which 
lies along the bank of the Potomac River. This 
height he scaled in a very different manner from 
that of his previous climbing adventures: twelve 
miles in an open automobile on a lovely June day, 
the bright sunshine revealing the distant city of 
Washington in all its splendor, while the summer 
clouds floated feathery overhead, and one was every¬ 
where conscious of the fragrance of a bountiful and 
kindly earth. This was destined to be his last hill 
climb in his own country, and it was made in the 
116 



HILL 5 


company of two or three of his women folk who had 
come east, in response to his earnest plea to be with 
him for a few weeks before he left for his sailing 
port. With light hearts we ascended this hill, so 
rich in colonial, revolutionary and civil war associa¬ 
tions, as well as in political history, anticipating the 
view from the brow of the hill over to the Capitol, 
watching the crisp sparkle of the Potomac as we 
passed, trying too to remember some of the history 
of the spot we were to visit — for example, that the 
estate where Arlington is located — was once the 
possession of Martha Washington and continued in 
her family until it came down to the great great 
granddaughter who had married Robert E. Lee. 

The thought of what this visit to the cemetery 
might mean to our brother did not at first occur to 
us. We walked through the cemetery, where thou¬ 
sands of soldiers lie buried. As far as the eye could 
reach, the lines of soldier graves stretched through 
the woods of this hill, while from the brow of it the 
great monuments to commanders in our wars looked 
down upon the city spread along the banks of the 
lovely river below. The green trees seemed to stand 
upon one another’s shoulders and the white build¬ 
ings off in the distance were half hidden by their 
foliage these summer months. We talked of this 
and that grave, we admired this and that monument, 
we spoke of this famous soldier and that one. Then 
we walked with George across the brow of the hill, 
and stood in front of the beautiful old home which 

“7 



HILL 7 


Robert E. Lee built and one day left so suddenly 
when called upon to take charge of the southern 
army in the Civil War. With him we enjoyed at 
our leisure the view of the river beyond and the city 
upon its banks, all of which George describes in a 
letter. 

As we stood there, rapt in contemplation of this 
moving and lovely scene, the face of our brother 
seemed to change, the expression upon it became 
grave, and that changed appearance upon his coun¬ 
tenance has remained with the writer, never, I sup¬ 
pose, to leave her memory of him. Every thought of 
him recalls that expression, as though it were her last 
sight of her young brother. 

This may appear to be mere sentimentality — but 
is there not something to be said for sentimentality 
at times? In the Life of Myron T. Herrick, our am¬ 
bassador to France during the years of the war, he, 
it is written, sometimes laughed at being called a 
“ sentimentalist ” and once said: “ Thank God, I 
have got my share of sentiment. I have all my life 
been struggling with the practical things, and if 
being sentimental carried me through, if sentiment 
helped bring me through, maybe sentimentalism has 
its practical value, too.” So, if the thought of that 
grave expression on our brother’s face has been help¬ 
ful, then we, too, owe something to sentimentality. 

As he studied there, that hour, the graves of those 
who had been killed in action — very, very many of 
them — before us lay the beautiful city of Washing- 
118 



HILL 5 


ton beside the sparkling waters of the Potomac, and 
in front, too, the white marble pillars of the Lincoln 
memorial.* Washington in all its splendor in front, 
and behind — Arlington! In front, the velvet glove, 
back of us the iron hand that fits into that velvet 
glove. He might have been filled with a sense of 
foreboding, a sense of the approach of the doom 
which might be his — in front, Lincoln speaking to 
him, back of him, the fate implied in the sight of 
the thousands of soldier dead. It is certain that he 
felt the solemnity of this occasion here in Arlington. 
Rapt in inward contemplation, he seemed, for the 
time being, utterly detached from life. 

But if it was a gloomy foreboding to him, he from 
that time seemed to be the embodiment of a daunt¬ 
less resolution and his manner and his letters took on 
greater dignity. The sight of the city, of the Lin¬ 
coln monument, the sight of the thousands of sol¬ 
diers’ graves, had wrought in him some change. 
“ This is a man’s job,” he had said; “ I would be 
ashamed not to go,” he had written; now he takes on 
a new spirit, and his eyes are shining with the fire of 
a great purpose. He writes to President Hopkins, 
of Dartmouth, “ send me over at once.” He writes 
to his mother, “ All I’m afraid of now is that the 
German government will cave in before our division 
gets into action.” 

* The Lincoln monument was in process of construction in 1918 
but the pillars were up, giving from a distance the appearance of the 
finished memorial. 

119 




HILL 7 


The vision of this city beautiful, golden in the 
sunshine of that June day, seen from Hill 5, Arling¬ 
ton, wings its way perpetually into our memory. As 
though descended out of Heaven, it stretches into 
the golden distance along the broad, winding 
stream of the shining Potomac, and while we gaze 
upon it we turn our backs on the dark, malignant 
sight of the cemetery. Soldiers had marched to war, 
soldiers had fallen — thousands of them were buried 
here at Arlington who had been killed in action — 
but when we turned away from the cemetery, this 
beautiful city with its bright river, even amid the 
dire calamities of these times, brought us an inspira¬ 
tion which was to be of indescribable help to us in 
future days. 

To our brother, standing there looking down 
upon this vision beautiful from the brow of the hill, 
it spoke with words of inspiration too, we believe. 
The sunshine was the gold, which, shining over all, 
brought the buildings into shades of jasper and 
emerald, topaz and sapphire, while the luxuriant 
growth of the many great trees of the city’s avenues 
half hid them with their lacy foliage. The sparkling 
river winding below disclosed in the foreground a 
city gate, one of pearl, the Lincoln memorial with 
its marble pillars of dazzling white, like sentinels 
guarding the city. The memorial had its word for 
him, too. It seemed to say: “ You are now in the 
company of Washington and Lincoln.” Our brother 
was later to see President Wilson, and in France, 


120 



HILL 5 


still later, he was to salute General Pershing at Brest; 
but to this vision of the city of Washington, we be¬ 
lieve he owed his new great purpose — and it re¬ 
mained with him to the end. 

But we are going ahead of our story, for this visit 
to Arlington did not take place until just before he 
left Washington. We will let his letters tell of those 
days there in Washington from his arrival at Camp 
Meade, January 20, 1918, to his reaching his port 
of sailing at Hoboken in July. 

Camp Meade, Jan. 1918 
304th Sanitary Train 

Dear Mother: 

Several letters were forwarded to me here from 
Jacksonville, all of which I received today, among 
them yours and B’s. Was glad to know you were 
surviving those winter blasts there in Chicago. Nice 
and warm here. Forgot to explain that I was picked 
from the Quarter Master School down there to fill 
the vacancy here: Am attached to this Division here 
now, the 79th, and when they go over I will go with 
them. I can see no chance of getting over to France 
much before April, as they are sending over all the 
National Guard units first, and they are not all over 
yet, by any means. 

Am absolutely satisfied with all the personal ar¬ 
rangements here, my room, location, mess etc., and 
can find no kick anywhere, except that I am not a 
Captain. Perhaps that will be adjusted in a month 
121 




HILL 7 


or two, at least, I hope so. Am doing a captain’s 
work now, altogether. Once in a while I get a long¬ 
ing for Florida again, it’s a great place and when I 
get old, that is the place for me to spend my winters. 
St. Augustine is the most interesting place down 
there, the Ponce de Leon is the most magnificent 
hotel I ever saw, covering five acres. With this per¬ 
manent assignment for me, I guess it is good-bye to 
Butler Bros, now, for good, and am afraid to Chi¬ 
cago, too. If the war should stop tomorrow, there 
would be enough work in the Q. M. C. for years to 
come, checking up property, so with the exception 
of a furlough now and then, I don’t imagine that I 
can see much of the old life again. 

George 

Jan. 22 , 1918 
Camp Meade 

Dear M: 

Just a word to let you know my address and to say 
that I am very much pleased with this new assign¬ 
ment here. It is another very nice location about 45 
minutes on the electric to Baltimore, an hour from 
Washington, three hours from Philadelphia. The 
camp is one of the best in the country and kept 
right up to snuff because of visitors from Washing¬ 
ton. Had a fine trip up on the boat and enjoyed 
every minute of it, especially when I remembered 
how poor the train service is, everywhere. Am liv¬ 
ing in regular officers’ quarters, nothing but majors 
1 22 



HILL 5 


and captains, with a Lt. Col. thrown in. Guess I am 
about the only 2nd Lt. around, as far as I can see. 
You will smile when I tell you I have a staff now, 
composed of one sergeant and two privates, a private 
office, private desk, etc., also a saddle horse for my 
own personal use, to go around camp on. So many 
things of interest coming up on the boat, including 
a patrol submarine chaser, and saw where the sub¬ 
marine nets were located when we entered Chesa¬ 
peake Bay. The bay was full of ice, but the battle 
ships had cleared a path for us, and we came in right 
on time. 

George 

Jan. 29, 1918 
Camp Meade 

Dear M: 

Have been reading about the severe weather you 
have in Chicago and am sorry; it is not bad here, 
and I have a steam-heated sleeping room, besides an 
orderly to sweep it out and care for it. Am the 
supply officer for this division and hope to get a 
captaincy soon; much responsibility, and it keeps 
me jumping, believe me. Looked the town of Balti¬ 
more over during my last week end, all by myself. 
Next week end am going down to Washington to 
attend church at the Presbyterian Church, where 
President Wilson goes, and hope to get a glimpse of 
him. Hope to see Annapolis soon, too, only a half 
hour’s ride from our camp. There is some location 
123 




HILL 7 


to this camp, so near Washington, Baltimore, Phila¬ 
delphia, Annapolis and Atlantic City. The same 
officer is in command here who was in command at 
Fort Sheridan when I was there. 

George 

Feb. 3, 1918 
Camp Meade 

Dear Mother: 

This is a first-class place, the military discipline is 
better, no doubt, because we are so close to Wash¬ 
ington. Expect to go to Washington this week-end, 
will write you from there. I have the exclusive use 
of a saddle horse here and will soon be getting fine 
rides, over the hill trails near here, as soon as the 
weather permits. Must get some new riding boots. 
I have no complaint to make here, everything fine. 

George 

Feb. 16, 1918 
Carvel Hall, Annapolis 

Dear Mother: 

Am visiting around here in this very interesting 
and historical town, the place is full of naval officers 
and naval students and it certainly differs from any 
town I was ever in before. Remember I had a 
cousin named Struble who was here in this naval 
school, but can’t find any trace of him now. 

George 


124 



HILL 5 


Feb. 24 , 1918 
Camp Meade 


Dear Mother: 

Must not let my Sunday letter pass, so will start 
one this morning. The weeks go by so fast, a month 
has passed already — it hardly seems possible I have 
been here in this camp that long. We have balmy 
weather here and am riding horseback nearly every 
day. Was in Washington yesterday and saw Pro¬ 
fessor McDaniel, principal of the Oak Park High. 
He was in the Willard where I was waiting for an 
appointment. He is here for some educational con¬ 
ference, I suppose. Am getting quite familiar with 
Washington now, know where to find things, build¬ 
ings, etc., and pass the White House frequently. 
Have an old Chicago friend in the State, War and 
Navy Building, which is near the White House. 
I saw Mrs. Wilson come out of there one day and 
pass into her machine. Have not seen the President 
yet. Took a trip to a small town, called Alexandria, 
about 8 miles from Washington, with one of the boys 
here, on the trolley. Crossed over the Potomac 
River, and was in Virginia for the first time. 
Haven’t been to Mt. Vernon yet but plan to go 
soon. I did visit the Capitol and saw the senate 
and house in session and also went over to the Con¬ 
gressional Library. 

George 


125 




HILL 7 


304th San. Train, March 3, 1918 
Camp Meade 

Dear Mother: 

We have been having some wonderful weather 
here, and have been horseback riding every day. 
Was in the saddle both morning and afternoon to¬ 
day. Wish you could see my horse, he is a fine and 
dandy one, full of pep and had had no exercise until 
I came up here. He gets it every day now! Was in 
Washington last week and took a trip up Washing¬ 
ton’s monument, five hundred feet high, which gives 
a splendid view of the city. Was greatly interested 
in the view from there. Went to the War Depart¬ 
ment and called on Dr. Hopkins, President of Dart¬ 
mouth, who is here doing work for the Quarter 
Master General. I once thought that the White 
House was in the residential part of Washington, 
but not so — it is right down in the business section, 
crowds passing it all the time. 

George 

March 17, 1918 
Camp Meade 

Dear Mother: 

Must let you know that all is well with me, though 
very tired tonight. Had a letter from M. today in 
which it says they may be coming to Washington 
soon. We may be on our way to France by that 
time, tho there is absolutely no reason for my think¬ 
ing so, for up to date, there hasn’t been even a 
126 



HILL 5 


rumor, so nobody seems to think much about it 
around here. Have been too busy this week to take 
a trip anywhere about, but will try to make Atlantic 
City next week end if possible. Jack Clarke’s wife 
(Hazel) knit me a dandy pair of woolen socks and 
must write her today. Did I tell you — the last time 
I was in Washington, I saw President Wilson coming 
out of the theatre, could almost have touched him. 

George 

March 26, 1918 
Camp Meade 

Dear Mother: 

If you could see all the work I have here, how 
busy I am, you would not wonder why I did not 
write more often. So far, I have been able to get 
away once a week, but from now on don’t think I 
will be able to do this. The responsibilities of this 
job are increasing, with new duties being added, 
until now it scarcely seems as tho I could get a few 
minutes to myself. However, things are getting 
along pretty well, and I have no kick to make. En¬ 
joyed a splendid trip to Philadelphia and Atlantic 
City from here and was there in four hours, was 
there before I knew it. The latter is a great place, 
full of every known amusement. The other supply 
officer, in the camp, has been ordered to France. His 
desk is next to mine and I am arranging to take over 
his work. He leaves tomorrow. An air machine has 
been flying over the camp all day, doing all sorts of 
127 



HILL 7 


stunts, much to the wonderment and astonishment 
of the camp. He comes up from Washington and 
sure can control his machine. 

George 
Easter Letter, 1918 

Dear Mother: 

This has been the most perfect Easter Day and I 
hope you are enjoying the fine weather there, too. 
The camp here today has been full of visitors all day 
and the steady stream has been going by since morn¬ 
ing. Am very busy these days, with the preparations 
for the march that the division is to make to Balti¬ 
more next Thursday, to celebrate the anniversary 
of our entrance into the war. Have to supply them 
all in this train, with clothes, food — also saddles, 
etc. and it is one big job and am very tired at night 
when I get home to my bunk. They have certainly 
been doing some fighting in France and it looks as 
tho Germany was licked if she does not break thru 
the line. 

George 


(Night Letter) 

April 7 th, 1918 

Dear Mother: 

Many happy returns of your birthday, sorry can’t 
be with you, but hope to be on your next one. Am 
in Baltimore tonight, have just finished our parade 
with the President to review us. It was an interest- 
158 



HILL 5 


ing experience and my horse behaved splendidly. 
Again best wishes on your birthday. 

Geo. 

April 7, 1918 
Camp Meade 

Dear Mother: 

Sent you a night letter yesterday from Baltimore, 
and hope you received it safely. We arrived here in 
camp, left Baltimore at seven and reached here at 
3 P.M. Rode my horse during the whole trip and 
my place in the parade was by the side of the Major, 
so felt very cocky in the parade, with a white collar 
on and a prancing horse. As we came in front of 
President Wilson had a fine chance to see him, as we 
saluted him. Hope you saw something in the papers 
about this. “ The Parade Reviewed By President 
Wilson Yesterday ” so you will know what I mean 
when I mention parade. We had a great time and 
find I am very sleepy tonight. 

George 

April 14, 1918 
Camp Meade 

Dear Mother: 

Have been busier than ever this week, am trying 
to get our outfit fitted with some things that are hard 
to supply — and it has kept me on the merry run for 
some time. There are several units moving out of 
camp, and then for France, but don’t suppose we 
i*9 



HILL 7 


will be one of them for some time. If the Allies 
start an offensive, am thinking if they drive the Ger¬ 
mans back the enemy will realize defeat has come 
to them at last: and it would not surprise me in the 
least if in the next month it would happen. If such 
is the case I don't think I will ever get over to France. 
Am glad to hear A-is over there, think the ex¬ 
perience will do him good. B- must be very 

proud of him. Did I tell you I passed thru a town 

named Shipley, near here? Am looking for M- 

here before long, in Baltimore — and will be glad 
to see her again. If I join her, there will be plenty 
of places to visit and I am sure they will enjoy every 
minute of the time. Of course, on account of the 
war, things have slowed down for tourists. There 
is not as much of the old time gayety, except at An¬ 
napolis, where society is quite as active as ever. 

Geo. 

April 20, 1918 
Camp Meade 

Dear Mother: 

This is Saturday afternoon and rather quiet, so 
will drop you a line, as tomorrow am going in to 
Baltimore to spend the day and get a little rest. We 
have been very busy, but recently a new supply of 
officers was assigned here, and so the work has been 
taken off my shoulders a little, and will gradually 
get back to normal again. Am thinking of going up 
to Philadelphia next week end, to attend the Penn- 
130 






HILL 5 


Relay games. Do you remember ten years ago this 
spring when I participated in these same games, in 
Philadelphia, and came out with a gold watch for 

my trouble? A letter from M-says she will be 

down here but not for a month yet, so will be in bet¬ 
ter shape for her visit by that time. The war looks 
good today, and it seems to me that it will improve 
from now on. I believe the Germans are licked 
right now, and in the course of a few weeks the 
papers will be proclaiming victory at last! 

Geo. 

April 27, 1918 
304th San. Train 

Dear Mother: 

Last Tuesday went into Baltimore in my car * in 
half an hour, good roads all the way — and we just 
flew along, arriving there before I realized it. When 
we went thru that small town called Shipley I 
stopped to get gasoline and asked a bystander who 
the original settler was, and he said a man by the 
name of Luther Shipley. The war news today seems 
to be in favor of the German horde altho they are 
losing an awful lot of men and it may, in the end, 
be their doom. Here it is the first of May nearly, 
and I am still in the U. S. Had expected to be in 

* The car he referred to was a military motorcycle used by the offi¬ 
cers. When we met him in Baltimore, he took the pains to exhibit to us 
his bright, new, shining car and we could see the pride and great delight 
he took in it. There was a side car which he occupied, the orderly 
driving. This car or military motorcycle went with him to France, for 
in his last letter to the writer, he tells of it quite at length. 

13 1 





HILL 7 


France by this time. There are units leaving this 
camp, every now and then, but we are still around. 
There are plenty of trains leaving for France from 
other camps, and I have seen them go by on the 
Penn. R. R. which passes near here. Was in Wash¬ 
ington last Sunday and saw the lilacs in bloom on 
the White House lawn. Washington looks beauti¬ 
ful in the spring. 

George 

May 1, 1918 
Baltimore, Md. 

Dear B: 

Your fine letter received today, and will drop you 
a few lines while killing a few minutes here in town, 
this evening. It is hot here today but Baltimore 

seems fine. Am expecting a visit from M-soon. 

Hope she will appear before next month, as I sup¬ 
pose we will be moving out by that time, and it sure 
will be fine when we do, as we are all getting anxious 
to move. Somehow or other I don’t expect to get 
over to France and if I feel blue it is because of that 
reason. The thought of being left behind here, is 
not very comforting, when everybody else is over 
there — all my friends are beating me to it. Will 
write again soon. Love to mother. 

George 

P.S. That postal to R-was a picture of a famous 

place — the home of Robert E. Lee the southern 
general, and the outlook from the front porch over 

132 





HILL 5 


the city of Washington, with the Potomac River ly¬ 
ing between, is about as beautiful a view as one can 
imagine. The place is a National cemetery—it is 
a beautiful place and contains the remains of General 
Sherman and a host of civil war veterans. 

George 

May 5, 1918 
Camp Meade 

Dear Mother: 

Another week gone by and spring weather is an 
established fact here, now, and I presume it is with 
you. Today has been a wonderful one to be out in 
the country. Went into Washington for the first 
time in an auto. One of the boys here took us in, 
along the Washington-Baltimore pike. It was a great 
ride thru the beautiful country, with the old Capitol 
dome looming up in the distance as we approached 
the city. We have a chaplain assigned to our train 
now and he is quite a fine fellow, comes from Penn¬ 
sylvania and seems to like the life here very much. 
Met a boy in Washington who comes from River 
Forest who worked in Butler Bros, near me. He is a 
private out at Camp Meigs, near Washington. His 
father is president of that German college near 
Augusta Street. Today I saw Dr. Philip Doane in 
the Willard Hotel. He is a major and looks good in 
his officers’ uniform. Washington is a great place 
nowadays to meet people. The War news was pretty 
good last week end, if it keeps up as well the next 
133 



HILL 7 


two or three weeks I think the crisis will have been 

reached. Am expecting M-soon now and hope 

she will not put it off too long. Am well and have 
plenty of work so have no kick coming. 

George 

May 25, 1918 
Washington 

Dear Mother: 

Have not written you for some time, thinking that 
M— would do so and let you know how I am. We 
have been having a fine visit here and think both she 

and Aunt L- are having an interesting time. 

They seem to get about a good deal and yesterday 
they spent in Annapolis. I have just come into 
Washington to spend Saturday and Sunday with 
them and we are going to try and attend church with 
the President tomorrow, that is, go to his church. 

Will go down to Old Point Comfort after I-next 

week-end, and then the next will go to New York to 
make some preparations for our leaving camp in 

July. 

George 

June 16, 1918 
Shoreham Hotel, Washington 

Dear Mother: 

Am sitting here in the lobby of this hotel waiting 

for M-and I-and have been thinking my 

letters to you have been too infrequent of late. But 
134 








HILL 5 


it is because I have been so very busy getting ready 
to leave for France. Of course, no one knows just 
when we leave but my guess is about the 4th of July. 
I am glad we are going because, you know, I would 
be ashamed to live thru this war and not go over 
there to France, when so many have gone already. 
I came into Washington on my motorcycle and made 

it in three-quarters of an hour. Last night, I- 

and I went to the theatre. The President had been 
there the night before so we did not see him, but we 
enjoyed the show immensely. This is a very attrac¬ 
tive hotel here, full of English and French officers 
with striking uniforms and there are senators and 
congressmen galore, and distinguished visitors from 
all over. It is only two blocks from the White 
House; have seen a good deal of the United States 
now and shall enjoy seeing something of Europe. 
Am looking forward to it very much. 

George 

After George had arrived in Washington he dis¬ 
covered that Dr. Ernest Hopkins, President of Dart¬ 
mouth College, was there in war service, acting as 
assistant to the Secretary of War, and having the In¬ 
dustrial Foreign Relations Department under his 
supervision. When George learned this he went as 
soon as possible to see his friend in the War Building, 
the object of his visit being to know if his friend 
could not get him across to France at once. We 
learned of this after his death from a letter written 
135 




HILL 7 


to the family by Dr. Hopkins. President Hopkins 
was not able to arrange this for him and so he was 
obliged to be patient and wait until his regiment was 
called — as it happened, later in July. Of this re¬ 
quest which George made, Dr. Hopkins wrote: “ I 
did what I could for him in this matter, because of 
our longtime friendship dating from his undergradu¬ 
ate days.” As our soldier talked that day with Presi¬ 
dent Hopkins, did he not seem to exemplify those 
lines written of Dartmouth men? — 

Not a man but faced the foeman, 

Bringing glory to old Dartmouth on the hill. 

Men of Dartmouth can we fail now. 

Can we falter, can we quail now. 

Can we strive for less than victory and the Crown? 

AUTHOR UNKNOWN 

June 18, 1918 
Camp Meade 

Dear Mother: 

Just a few words of mid-week greeting. We are all 

very busy now and will be until we sail. M-left 

Washington on Tuesday and is safely at home in 
Chicago I hope, by this time. I certainly did enjoy 
seeing them and having the opportunity of spending 
a few week-ends with them. I think they enjoyed 
their visit, they certainly hit Washington when there 
was enough going on here, most varied attractions. 
They must have enjoyed Old Point Comfort. I was 
there a day you know and it was a thrilling place be¬ 
lieve me, with Fortress Monroe taken up with the 
136 




HILL 5 


preparations for war, with the great transports load¬ 
ing with their thousands of soldiers for France, all 
right in front of the hotel in Newport News waters, 
while the airplanes from the fields near by sailed 
continuously over the whole place. It is about the 
liveliest place from the military point of view, that 
I have seen anywhere in the East here. Our camp 
has been shaking today from the artillery practice 
going on. 

George 

Your check from now on will come from Wash¬ 
ington. 


June 18, 1918 
Camp Meade 

Dear M: 

Suppose you are back home now and after the gay 
weeks here, you must welcome the change to quieter 
surroundings of home. I took the Pennsylvania into 
Washington Tuesday — got the train at the little sta¬ 
tion near the Navy Academy. Do you remember 
Odenton? Also, by the way, I got my motor-cycle and 
reached camp in three quarters of an hour without 
mishap. Next thing I tackle round here will be 
motor ambulances. I shipped my trunk to you today 
by Wells-Fargo express. Let me know when it 
comes, please. Have had a busy day today and will 
be busy every day from now on — have a million 
things to do and the days are not long enough. 

George 


137 



HILL 7 


June 24, 1918 
304th Sanitary Train, Camp Meade 

Dear Mother: 

Have just been watching an airplane that’s been 
flying over camp here this evening. Nearly every 
day about noon I see the air ship that takes mail from 
Washington and Philadelphia to New York. It flies 
right over camp, but it is away up in the air, very 
high, believe me. We have very cool nights here, 
have just drawn 1000 blankets for my men to take 
with them overseas. So you know, I carry enough 
things for myself to keep warm with. We are very 
busy getting ready, getting fully equipped to leave, 
but do not know just what day yet we go. Probably 
the middle of next month. Am beginning to think 
the war will be over before we get there. It is cer¬ 
tain that Germany is having a hard pull of it now. 
Italy is troubling the Austrians, I see by the night’s 
paper, and I guess they are all getting pretty hungry, 
which usually makes trouble somewhere. I wish I 
could send one of my dandy horses for your use this 
summer. Get all the fresh air you can. It will add 
years to your life. 

George 

Tell B-I have all her letters and thank her for 

them. 


138 




HILL 5 


July 5, 1918 

Dear Mother: Hoboken, N.J. 

Next time I write, it will be from France. As you 
see, I am on my way at last. I know when we leave 
here and the boat and so forth, but am not allowed 
to communicate it. Had a beautiful ride up the 
Hudson yesterday on the Jersey side across the river. 
New York and the scenery were beautiful. This is a 
busy port with vessels, war transports, and soldiers. 
Am going over to New York City tomorrow if I get 

time and have a visit with uncle G-. I have his 

address and think there will be time to see him. 
Gazed at the Statue of Liberty today and noticed 
what a wide view down the Harbor of New York it 
commands. 

Am very glad I did not stay at Camp Grant, as they 
have not gone over yet so I am going to beat that 
Division over anyhow. All I am afraid now is that 
the Government of Germany will cave in before our 
Division gets into action. Will send you a postal 
from the other side as soon as we land. George 

July 7, 1918 
Mount Kisco 

Dear R: 

Am sorry you cannot be with me the few days in 
and around New York. It would prove an interest¬ 
ing place for you. It is the most fascinating place in 
the world. Yesterday I had to go over to Camp Mer¬ 
ritt to get some equipment. It is located about 
139 




HILL 7 


twenty miles north of Hoboken along the Hudson 
River. We went thru Hoboken to Jersey City where 
I got my baggage and trunk, then we drove the truck 
on the ferry and took the trip to New York City, over 
the Brooklyn Bridge to Brooklyn, and finally got to 
our destination. You certainly would have enjoyed 
that trip and it took us only two hours and a half. 
The buildings in New York are 30 and 40 stories 
high and 4 and 5 stories under the ground. Subways 
run all over here. Went in a subway yesterday which 
went under the Hudson River and was in Hoboken 
in ten minutes. Subways go under the East River to 
Brooklyn in the same time. People live under the 
ground here it seems, there are entrances into stores 
and buildings from the subways into the hotels. 
When I was in New York before, I came into the 
42nd Street Depot from Greenwich, Conn. The 
train came into the depot from the lower level, then 
I walked right into the subway station, went over to 
the Penn depot, got into the train that went thru the 
Hudson tube, under the river, came out over on the 
Jersey side, and it was all done in a few minutes. 
Good bye until you hear from me in France. I for¬ 
got to tell you about the boat I go on, it’s a high liner 
and before the war, it ran to Salonika, Greece. I had 
supper on it last night and met some French marines. 
My cabin is a beauty, all finished up in birds eye 
maple, beautiful tapestry and chairs, private bath 
and brass beds. It certainly made a hit with me. 

George 


140 



HILL 5 


( Telegram) 

To Mrs. F. W. L. Douglas, Mich. 
Au revoir. 


July 10, 1918 


George 


The Steamer Lutetia with the 79th Division on 
board sailed from Hoboken July 9, 1918. As they 
make their slow progress across the Atlantic, it will 
be interesting to recall an event which occurred 
shortly before they sailed and which was to some of 
that Division very curious. 

In April, while Lieutenant Shipley was journeying 
from Florida to Camp Meade, he had written de¬ 
scribing his trip north in these words: “ Many things 
of interest coming up on the boat, including a sub¬ 
marine chaser — and I saw where the submarine 
nets were located, when we entered Chesapeake 
Bay.” Thus early had there come to him a vivid 
illustration of our country’s arrangements for pro¬ 
tecting our eastern coast from a possible German 
submarine approach. Such an approach actually 
happened shortly before the 79th left Camp Meade 
— the presence of a German submarine was dis¬ 
covered off the coast of New Jersey. As this disturb¬ 
ing news, published in the papers of that day, came 
to the men of the 79th Division, Lieutenant Shipley 
must have felt an intense interest in it, because he 
had seen those submarine nets off the mouth of 
Chesapeake Bay, and knew how the country had pro¬ 
vided for such an event. 


141 



HILL 7 


Some of the 79th Division may have thought they 
were going over to bring an end to all wars, some, 
mayhap, thought they were to help protect England, 
France or Paris in the immediate danger, others that 
they would make the world safe for democracy. But 
to some of the 79th came a very smashing bit of news: 
the Germans were off the coast of America, and to 
protect America itself may well have been the pur¬ 
pose of many of those brave soldiers as they neared 
the war front. During the days following that event, 
it was the subject of conversation everywhere. The 
imagination of the people ran riot. We remember 
the question that seemed uppermost in the minds of 
everyone: “ How shall the city of New York be pro¬ 
tected? ” 

If any of our readers visited Mt. Vernon during 
those days, they will remember the booming of the 
guns across the river from Mt. Vernon, on Indian 
Island, where the American guns were being tried 
out before being sent to France as America’s con¬ 
tribution to the artillery of the Allies. As the rever¬ 
berations sounded down the shores and over the hills, 
around the old home of Washington, these readers 
were not only reminded of Washington leaving his 
matchless abode there on the lovely Potomac to lead 
the revolutionary forces, but, too, they must have 
visualized the war in France as they heard the awful 
sound of those guns. 

France! Thither our brave boys were hurrying, 



HILL 5 


and the news of the German submarine discovered 
near the Atlantic coast brought the war closer and 
made it more real to them, we believe. They were 
aware of the horrible sense of insecurity that haunted 
the minds of the American people in discussing this 
submarine event. They could understand what 
anxiety their people would suffer if this obscure 
thrill of alarm should be followed by numerous ap¬ 
pearances of the enemy. The uneasiness lasted but 
a few days, our country's commonsense soon quiet¬ 
ing it, yet in the meantime the 79th were off. To 
some of these men, at least, there was a most com¬ 
pelling motive for getting to France: America might 
be in danger. To most of them there came no pain¬ 
ful doubts to flood their minds. Their country 
needed their presence in France; a motive, indeed! 

Many of the transports had been attacked by sub¬ 
marines, but if the men on the Lutetia had any fear of 
this they were happily disappointed, for Lieutenant 
Shipley wrote of this trip: “ An uneventful journey." 
The last contingent of the 79th arrived in Brest on 
August first, and George sent the following message 
from there: 

August 2, 1918 
Brest, France 

To Mr. G. T. L.: 

Arrived safely in France. Please write Mother 
and B. 

Ship 


143 



HILL 7 


This message was written on a postcard bearing the 
picture of the steamer, marked “ Lutetia.” George 
was detained in Brest for several days, “ looking up 
lost baggage ” for his division. He seems to have 
lived during those few days at the Continental Hotel 
in Brest for it was from this hotel that his first letter 
home after reaching France was written. 

Aug. 3, 1918 
Continental Hotel, Brest, France 

Dear M: 

Am taking the liberty to leave on the letterhead 
but don’t believe it will pass the censor, however, 
hope he will tear off the location evidence heading 
and send it. I have been staying in this place for sev¬ 
eral days to collect lost baggage, and the organization 
has gone on. Tomorrow I leave for Paris but of 
course I cannot state where I go from there to join 
my outfit. Have been having a very interesting time 
in this ancient city — historical, picturesque and to 
me, novel. There is an old chateau, a city wall, a 
dungeon, a fortress, a torture chamber, etc., to en¬ 
liven the dullest imagination, and the local color is 
full of thrills in spite of the pall of war, which is mani¬ 
fest in numerous ways. The Petite Femme are an 
added attraction and can always be relied upon to 
help in learning the language. I have now acquired 
a vocabulary of thirty or forty words which carry me 
through most situations.* This morning I had the 

• George had studied Latin, German, and Spanish in high school 
and college, but his French had been neglected. 

144 



HILL 5 


good fortune to pass by and salute General Pershing, 
who is here on inspection. He is certainly a soldierly 
looking man and I was certainly very proud to 
know he was my commander-in-chief. The country 
around here is very beautiful and from a superficial 
observation looks the picture of peace and plenty. 
The streets in this town are very narrow, the dwell¬ 
ings, mostly of stone, are very old and the pavements 
are all cobblestones, with no differentiation as to 
where the sidewalks start and the street proper be¬ 
gins. Many of the poorer class wear the wooden 
shoes and when a group of natives come down the 
rue with this clumsy shoe on, the clatter is very dis¬ 
tinctly noticeable. The daily beverage here is not 
water but wine which is in abundance and consumed 
in apparent moderation by the French people, at 
least, in other words, they carry it well, tho it is used 
in immense quantities. War is here on every side 
and in spite of the cheerful and animated character 
of the French people, has made its presence felt, as 
most every one wears black and crepe, it seems, 
among the women. Hope you get this all right, be 
sure to forward to Mother. Will send you a perma¬ 
nent address soon. The trip over was without 
incident. 

P.S. I might add that last evening I had dinner on 
shipboard of one of the U. S. submarine destroyers 
with some naval officers who are doing convoy duty. 
Their little boats keep the submarines scared to 
145 



HILL 7 


death and I spent a most interesting and profitable 
evening. The meal was the best one I have had since 
I left the States. Was filled with great pride at the 
character and keen-eyed personnel of these young 
American officers who are performing a difficult duty 
not without many dangers and thrills. They are cer¬ 
tainly a splendid lot of young fellows, of the best type 
of the U. S., perfect gentlemen and fine specimens of 

our American manhood. I wish I-could have 

been with me last night — I heard some very inter¬ 
esting incidents that happened in the English chan¬ 
nel, the sort you do not often read about in the 
papers. 

George 


146 




HILL 6 

LANGRES 

Where Julius Caesar Viewed “All Gaul ” 

With towering hearts and lightsome feet, 

They went to their high places 
The fiery valor at white heat 
Was flashing in their faces . 

MUSSEY 

Langres, an ancient city of eastern France, was, as 
Lieutenant Shipley wrote, about 50 miles from the 
fighting area. Here was situated the largest camp of 
the A. E. F. The city itself, of about 6,000 popula¬ 
tion, was set on a very high hill, about 1500 feet 
above sea level, and was an intensely interesting place 
to the traveler, for it had in ancient times been an 
important fortress of the Romans. We know that 
Julius Caesar and Marc Antony as well as Marcus 
Aurelius visited this spot, which was so natural a fort. 
The camp itself, accommodating thousands of Ameri¬ 
can soldiers, was laid out at the foot of a hill and the 
soldiers reached the fascinating old town only by a 
cog railway or by motoring up, as Lieutenant Shipley 
did on his military cycle, a distance, he stated, of 
about 12 miles. From this town of Langres, where 
our brother evidently was located for about a month, 
he wrote two letters home. 

147 




HILL 7 


While we think of the 79th Division as being at 
Langres, preparing for their advance into the fight¬ 
ing area, it seems to the writer a very good oppor¬ 
tunity to read up on some of the war history — from 
the beginning in August four years before this, up 
to the present date, August, 1918. To expedite our 
observations let us take the date AUGUST THIRD 



The Rack Railway Leading up to Langres 


for a peg, as it were, on which to hang our study of 
this four year record. Who does not remember that 
first AUGUST THIRD? America, peaceful and 
happy, much of its population off on the yearly holi¬ 
day, war the last thought in the minds of the majority 
of American citizens — AUGUST THIRD, 1914. 

But before we begin our survey of those dates in 
Europe, let us stop for one August third in our own 
American history which deserves consideration here 
148 










HILL 6 


because of Lafayette, that brave Frenchman who so 
valiantly came to America for service in our War of 
Independence. The Declaration of Independence 
was written by Thomas Jefferson in July — it is said 
to have taken him five hours to write it — and on 
the Fourth of July this great document was read to 
the public and the bell in Independence Hall was 
rung. But it was not actually made official until the 
eve of August third, 1776, for it was then that 
Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin Franklin, and all the 
rest placed their signatures to this great piece of 
parchment. The eve of August Third, 1776. 

And now to resume our consideration of AU¬ 
GUST THIRD, 1914. During the few weeks lead¬ 
ing up to that date Austria had chosen to allow its 
crown prince to run the gauntlet of a drive thru the 
hostile streets of Serajevo, Bosnia, Serbia. The 
crown prince and his wife being killed, Germany 
chose, for sentimental reasons it seems, to avenge this 
assassination. It is very likely that no one wanted 
the war, surely not the old emperor of Austria, Franz- 
Josef. The Germans did not want so huge a war; 
they may have wanted a small one. Perhaps the 
Premier of Austria, Berchtold, was responsible for 
most of what happened, but in Prince Lichnowski’s 
book, “ Heading for the Abyss,” we are given to un¬ 
derstand that the Kaiser might have prevented the 
war. The author of this interesting and authorita¬ 
tive book on the interval when war hung in the bal¬ 
ance, had been the German Ambassador at the Eng¬ 
lish Court since 1912 and was in London at the time. 
149 



HILL 7 


He possessed all the information and correspondence 
about German affairs and about the moves that Eng¬ 
land made. AUGUST THIRD, 1914 — on that 
day Prince Lichnowski sent the following message to 
Germany's foreign office: “ I have just been informed 
that a telegraphic message has been received by the 
Foreign office in London to the effect that German 
troops in the neighborhood of Nancy have crossed 
the frontier at numerous points in large numbers, 
without any previous declaration of war in Paris.” 
England endeavored to prevent the catastrophe, 
Prince Lichnowski himself labored to keep the peace 
with England, but all to no avail, and the World War 
was on! AUGUST THIRD, 1914. 

To read a few days farther in history, it is inter¬ 
esting to hear about the American ambassador to 
France during those days. He had refused to leave 
Paris when the French Government left for Bor¬ 
deaux. He remained at his post even when the 
American ambassador to Germany, Mr. James W. 
Gerard, sent him word that the German government 
advised all Americans in Paris to leave via Rouen or 
Havre at once. Mr. Gerard had been informed by 
the German general staff that the German army 
would soon be in Paris. Our ambassador to 
France, Mr. Myron T. Herrick, not only remained at 
his post in Paris but prepared to protect the great 
museums, historical buildings and art galleries of 
Paris, with their irreplaceable treasures that were 
precious to the whole world as well as to France. 

150 




HILL 6 


Germany had threatened to destroy the city in sec¬ 
tions, and the ambassador’s plan was to place posters 
on these special buildings bearing a message from 
the United States embassy that the edifices so marked 
should be spared — the request of a powerful neutral 
country. 

But now, the battle of the Marne! And it is inter¬ 
esting to note the main reason for this French victory 
as given by the German general, Von Kluck: “ It was 
the capacity of the French private to ‘ come back.’ ” 

To proceed with our brief study of these eventful 
dates: 


AUGUST THIRD, 1914 

Prince Lichnowski, German ambassador at the 
court of St. James, in London, having endeavored des¬ 
perately to keep the peace between England and Ger¬ 
many, sends the following telegram to the Foreign 
Office at Berlin: “ I have just been informed that a 
telegraphic message has been received by the Foreign 
Office in London to the effect that German troops in 
the neighborhood of Nancy have crossed the frontier 
at numerous points in large numbers, without any 
previous declaration of war in Paris.” 



HILL 7 


AUGUST THIRD, 1915 

Prince Lichnowski had long ago left for Berlin, 
had begun writing his book, “ Heading for the 
Abyss,” and was already suffering persecution by his 
countrymen. The World War has now been going 
on for a year, and the general barbarity grows more 
furious as the weeks pass. If we look at the situation at 
Ypres, for instance, we see both England and France 
in a desperate plight. Germany was now beginning 
its use of liquid fire and poisonous gas. From Conan 
Doyle’s History of the War we learn — August, 1915 
— “in the trenches near Ypres the Germans had ex¬ 
ploded a mine under the English parapet and high 
jets of flame, sprayed from their diabolical machines, 
rose in a sheet of fire into the British lines and the 
effect was appalling, only one man escaping. 

And later: “ As the British soldiers came out of the 
wood crying ‘ Remember the Lusitania,’ the German 
machine gun fire literally swept them away, line after 
line. The men struggled forward only to fall in 
heaps along the edge of the wood. — The Germans 
renewed their attack with their diabolical liquid fire 
which blazed over the trenches and scorched the 
branches overhead. Sixty officers and 2,000 men 
were lost,” etc., etc. August third, 1915, in France, 
makes very unpleasant reading. 

Lieutenant Shipley on August third, 1915, was 
already preparing for the war in earnest, though not 
to cross to Europe for three years. 

152 




HILL 6 


AUGUST THIRD, 1916 

Now to August third, 1916! — Two years of fight¬ 
ing. What is happening in the battle of the Somme? 
It has been going on ever since the first of June and 
now in August, it is still indecisive and the ground 
gained each day is measured by yards! One bit of 
an historian’s page: “ In the night, gallantly leading 
his men and showing them how to proceed by the 
light of astronomy, fell young Captain Garvin, stu¬ 
dent, poet, essayist and soldier — one of those glori¬ 
ous youths who united all that was beautiful in the 
mind with all that is virile in the body, giving it in 
its country’s cause. Lives that are reminders of 
Sidney, Spencer and the finer of the Elizabethans, 
more like them than anything we could have 
hoped to evolve in these later days. Raymond As¬ 
quith, Rupert Brooke, Charles Lister, Gerard Gar¬ 
vin, Julian Grenfell, Neil Primrose, some of the 
finest flower of British culture and valour, men who 
sacrificed to the need of the present their inheritance 
as leaders of the future.” 

And with these British youths, now come on the 
scene for the first time the Australians! An observer 
of them as they marched through London writes: 
“ Their physique was extraordinarily fine, and even 
the stay-at-home Londoners who had seen the lithe 
figures, the eager, cleancut, aquiline faces, under 
the broadbrimmed hats, bringing a touch of ro¬ 
mance into the drab streets of the city, needed no 
153 




HILL 7 


assurance that the men were splendid.” But with 
all these brave English youths and strong Austra¬ 
lians, what was being accomplished that first week 
in August, 1916? “ They gained,” says the chroni¬ 
cler, of the first of August, “ some 2000 yards of 
frontage and a depth of 400 yards.” 

Lieutenant Shipley is at Camp Wilson, Texas, 
with Battery E, 1st Illinois Field Artillery. He 
writes: “August 3, 1916. Am sitting outside my 
tent. Looking up and down thru the street I can see 
a gorgeous sunset.” 


154 



HILL 6 


AUGUST THIRD, 1917 

The third of August, 1917! A transformation! 
America has declared war on Germany. General 
Pershing has arrived in Paris. The American army 
is training for the front line. 

An incident which occurred on this date: Ambas¬ 
sador Walter Hines Page, in London, was welcom¬ 
ing Herbert Hoover in his office. Mr. Hoover was 
on his way home, his only ambition being to get 
aboard some ship bound for America. As they 
talked, an American from Belgium accompanied 
by three Belgians came in, saying that Belgium was 
on the point of starvation; there was food for thirty- 
six hours only. Unless something was done, a na¬ 
tion starving would result. After much discussion 
Mr. Page said to Mr. Hoover: “ Hoover, you’re It.” 
A whole nation was to be fed. Mr. Hoover arose 
and without a word left the room. Upon his return 
sometime later Mr. Page said: “ We have been wait¬ 
ing for you.” Mr. Hoover explained: “ I saw there 
was an hour left before the American Exchange 
would close, so cabled to buy a million bushels of 
wheat — for the Belgians, of course.” 

Lieutenant Shipley, on August third, 1917, was 
writing his mother from Fort Sheridan: “ I am ex¬ 
pecting a commission in the Quartermaster corps.” 

The survey is now continued through the last year 
of the World War, and the date is August third, 
1918. Lieutenant Shipley had arrived in Brest and 
was soon to pass through Paris to Langres. 

155 



HILL 7 


AUGUST THIRD, 1918 

On August third, 1918, there was a meeting of all 
the premiers. They concluded that the war could 
never be won on the Western front. We can under¬ 
stand why the French would want no soldiers taken 
from their country for other fronts in the war, but 
why did the English permit their millions of youths 
to march up to that slaughter house called the West¬ 
ern front during those four long years of the war? 
We cannot understand. However, on August third, 
Haig, Field Marshal of the English forces, could not 
let the anniversary of the beginning of the war pass 
without some gesture of commemoration. He was 
holding a service of thanksgiving at Montreuil, 
while the premiers discussed the failure of their 
forces to win the war on the Western front. 

Something had happened in April of that year — 
the Americans had arrived! To be more explicit, 
on April 25, 1918, American forces had gone into 
the fighting line. The 1st Division took its place 
in the line north of Montdidier and a month later 
participated in a successful battle at Cantigny. Four 
weeks later the 2nd Division of Americans went 
into action at Belleau Wood, a brilliant feat of arms 
in connection with the French army, and in July the 
ships crossing the Atlantic had brought over 200,000 
men who had gone at once into the battle line near 
Chateau-Thierry. A steady stream of ships from 
America was still bringing troops over until now 
there were actually 700,000 men who were ready 
156 



HILL 6 


for the front, with thirteen more divisions waiting to 
join them, General Pershing had reported. Some¬ 
thing had happened! The generals were ready now 
to take risks, the Americans were their reinforce¬ 
ment. The ships were bringing these soldiers to 
their aid. 

We have been studying up to this time the record 
of the Allies in the War. Now let us turn to the his¬ 
tory of the war as written by General Ludendorff, 
Chief of the German Staff. Suppose we look in his 
book for our peg, August third, 1918. He writes: 
“ By the beginning of August, we had suspended our 
attack and reverted to the defensive on the whole 
front, and tho I considered the enemy might con¬ 
tinue his attacks, I assumed that the operations 
would only take the form of local isolated attacks,” 
and these Ludendorff thought he could defeat. This 
was August third, 1918, our last date of survey of 
the World War. We cannot leave it all here, how¬ 
ever, for in five days more, only five, all had changed. 
Though Foch and Ludendorff did not think the end 
of hostilities would come that year, there was an¬ 
other mind at work, that of Field Marshal Haig. He 
judged very differently from Foch and Ludendorff. 
To quote from his biography by Chartreusse: “On 
August 8, at four-thirty, the first great British blow 
was struck and that was the beginning of the end.” 
So August third, our last date, was not only the 
fourth anniversary of the beginning, it was also the 
date upon which Ludendorff looked out upon de- 
157 



HILL 7 


feat. “ August the 8th,” says he, “ was the black 
day of the German army. By the early hours of the 
afternoon I had gained a complete impression of the 
situation and it was a gloomy one. The 8th of Au¬ 
gust put the decline of the German army, its fighting 
power, beyond all doubt. The war MUST BE 
ENDED.” 

And so, to look again at our date, August third, 
which had seen so many important events, we find 
that the Germans were beginning to evacuate their 
positions: we learn from Ludendorff’s Own Story 
that the German army were retreating from their 
positions on the bridge-heads at Ancre and Avre on 
August third, 1918. 

But the Germans did not sue then for an armis¬ 
tice. The question of their position in the Peace 
Conference that would follow kept them still ready 
to continue the war, and it was not until September 
2 8, after the battle of the Argonne, that the picture 
of a decision being made between the two German 
generals, Ludendorff and Von Hindenburg, pre¬ 
sented itself. According to Ludendorff’s narrative: 
“ At six o’clock on the afternoon of September 28, 
I went down to the room of the Field Marshal (Von 
Hindenburg) which was one floor below mine. I 
explained to him my views as to a peace offer and a 
request for armistice. — The Field Marshal listened 
to me with emotion. He answered that he had in¬ 
tended to say the same thing to me that evening. — 
We were also at one in the view that the armistice 
158 



HILL 6 


conditions would have to provide for controlled and 
orderly evacuation of the occupied territory,” and 
from the military point of view, the last was a tre¬ 
mendous admission. 

Having reviewed to some extent the history of the 
World War by means of that very memorable date, 
August third, thru the four years, let us now resume 
our story and follow the subject of our sketch 
through the remaining pages of his life. We place 
here his two letters from Langres. 

'‘Over Here,” Aug. 18, 1918 

Dear Mother: 

No doubt you are wondering how things are far¬ 
ing with me over here in France and, stating it 
briefly, everything is fine so far. Plenty to eat, good 
beds to sleep in and a beautiful country to be in. 
We are billeted here in a small French village and 
three of us are living but not eating in a French 
house with French people. We have three rooms. 
The place is called a “ chateau ” and altho it doesn’t 
get the attention it would if the young men were not 
at war, yet the place is very beautiful, the grounds 
are wonderful, for the French people do get the 
most out of nature. There are roses and gardens 
and the most beautiful arbors of trees you can 
imagine. Our windows look right out on as beauti¬ 
ful a space of lawn, trees and flowers as it is possible 
for me to describe. The farmers here do not live 
in a house by themselves, but are grouped in little 
159 



HILL 7 


villages which are very numerous and only a mile 
or so apart, connecting with wonderful roads always 
kept up and always bordered on both sides by a row 
of matured trees, sometimes in double rows. I have 
never seen such a wonderful and well preserved sys¬ 
tem of roads. The people are not as progressive as 
we are in America and old fashioned methods are in 
use. The houses are all stone and you never see a 
frame building. The surrounding country is very 
beautiful. We had a very quiet trip across the 
Atlantic and landed in France on the Western coast 
in ten days. I stayed in the Port town about eight 
days or more to look after the company baggage but 
the rest of the company went on inland. I finally 
got my freight straightened out and started on a trip 
by myself right through the heart of France nearly 
across the country and joined the company here 
where we are located now in a training area about 
fifty miles from the trenches. We will be leaving 
here soon for the front line and we are all eager to 
go forward especially since the Americans and the 
Allies are having good success now. I know what 
sector we are headed for — it’s a quiet one — but 
am not permitted to tell you except that I expect to 
be this fall in some of the most beautiful mountain 
scenery in Europe, with the exception of Switzer¬ 
land. On my trip across France I stopped off in 
Paris for three days and Dijon for one day. While 
in Paris I went out to Versailles and gazed at the 
marvelous gardens and that famous establishment 
160 



HILL 6 


the 14th Century Palace that Louis the 14th spent 
so much time and money on. I am not able to de¬ 
scribe the beauty and grandeur and the immensity 
of the place. At Dijon I was particularly struck 
with the famous old Gothic architecture and re¬ 
membered several old places that I studied about 
when in college. This I found to be a brilliant little 
city, lots of gayety in spite of the war. The streets 
and houses are very picturesque, grotesque and 
every other kind of “ esque.” The museum at Dijon 
is full of original paintings, Rembrandts, Van 
Dycks, Durers, etc. A great deal of the arts were 
carried here by Napoleon from other countries. 
The trip thru France was a continual source of 
pleasure to me and the beauty of the country, the 
little winding canals and the little bridges spanning 
them, the beautiful roads, the quaint people, sur¬ 
passed my expectations time and again. The next 
day after I left Paris the German long range gun 
shelled the place for the first time in several weeks. 
Well, I am now out of subject matter and must close 
up and start to do some work. For excitement in 
the evenings I usually get on my bicycle and ride 
over to the next village with my French grammar 
and visit a very pretty little mademoiselle who can 
talk about as much English as I can French, so be¬ 
tween the two we can hold a slow conversation which 
is subject to revisions, additions and subtractions 
and corrections before the meaning is finally con¬ 
veyed. The French people are exceedingly polite 
161 



HILL 7 


but very few of them can talk English. This morn¬ 
ing I succeeded in telling the Madame in the house 
here that I wanted her to heat me some water for 
a bath and without the use of a dictionary, but it was 
quite a struggle of French words and twisted mean¬ 
ings. Give my best regards to the family. Tell 

B- that the letter which was mailed to me at 

Camp Meade was forwarded and I received it yes¬ 
terday. B- wrote the letter July 3rd. Please 

send this letter to M-so that she will know my 

address which is simply — 304th Sanitary Train, 
A. E. F. Hope you are all in good health, as I am. 

George 

P.S. There is a rumor here that the ship we came 
over on the “ Lutetia ” was sunk on her trip back to 
the states. Perhaps it is only a rumor.* 

“ Over Here ” Sept. 1, 1918 

Dear M: 

It is the Sabbath morning, a beautiful day with 
just a faint, misty suggestion of autumn in the air, 
that happy, lazy aroma that seems to make a kind of 
mystery of Indian summer. But why mention In¬ 
dians? This is France, the grand garden of Europe 
and looking down in the little valley below, peace¬ 
ful, prosperous and painstaking, it seems an infinite 
distance to scenes of war’s ravage, probably two hun¬ 
dred kilometers away. I am near the edge of a little 
plateau, sitting long side of a road that winds its 

* See Part II. 

162 






HILL 6 


way around and finally meets the level below. On 
the slope in front of me about a hundred metres off, 
bending with her toil, a peasant woman is working 
in her garden, carefully cultivating every inch in her 
slow, laborious manner. Behind me, just across the 
road, there looms up abruptly an immense mass of 
masonry. It is the old city wall that encircles com¬ 
pletely around the city within. The wall is well 
preserved, strong, and bristles with old fortifications 
for it protects, securely nestled inside, this old sea¬ 
soned city, four times sacked in feudalistic wars and 
each time emerging with some of its treasures un¬ 
scathed. There still stands here a section of an 
ancient wall built by Marcus Aurelius who must 
have been quick to realize the strategic position here 
for a fortification. I gaze up at this grand old wall, 
I demand of it to talk, to tell me its experiences, to 
release to me its tales of wars gone by. It gives me 
freely an answer, a great silent answer, and I turn 
away with only an increased stimulation of my 
imagination. Up the road is the old city gate with 
its moat and draw bridge. How history must have 
surged under this arch, coursed its way thru the nar¬ 
row streets. What gatherings of infamy, what as¬ 
semblages of oppressed peoples, what meetings of 
picturesque dignitaries, in the open square near the 
cathedral. How innocent blood and red wine must 
have flowed at different stages. How the periods of 
peace must have been enjoyed and how romance 
promenaded in the moonlight when the warrior 
163 



HILL 7 


rested on his arms! As I sit here musing and dream¬ 
ing of such scenes I hear the church chimes. The 
people are going to the cathedral; mass is seldom 
missed it seems; the bells blend out a tone of ancient 
religious devotion — but, what is the startling noise 
that jars the church bell, that interrupts these rev¬ 
eries so harshly? It is the last agonizing squeaks of 
a chicken. Evidently a transaction has previously 
taken place in which a thrifty peasant woman re¬ 
ceives a handsome sum of francs and some American 
soldier boys indulge in a good old chicken dinner. 
Well, why not? It’s time to go. I turn to my cycle, 
a military model. It stands there, grim and dusty, 
leaning against the tree. I feel grateful towards it. 
Twelve long miles did it bring me to see this old 
city. It was worth it. The steady climb up hill was 
a hard drill but the reward was a rare one to me. 
Soon I will be coasting down grade for five miles 
without turning, hardly. A long, gradual slope, 
with a beautiful panoramic view ahead and the very 
best of roads to travel on. Everything is fine here so 

far, m -, nothing exciting to write about, yet I 

am enjoying the experience very much. I received 

I-*s letter with great surprise and pleasure. It 

was a great treat, as I did not expect it. It took just 
a month to get here. I also received a letter from 

B- mailed August 5th and received by me on 

September 1st. They generally take about a month. 
Am in splendid health and hope you are, too. 

George 


164 






HILL 6 


The above letter was written from Langres, and 
before we actually leave this ancient city at the foot 
of whose hill the greatest American camp was lo¬ 
cated, let us take a look into its history. In order to 
do this, I quote from the pages of a small booklet 
entitled “ Guide to Langres.” There can be no 
doubt that the few references which our George 
made in his letter from Langres were taken from 
this Guide and that fact makes it a doubly interest¬ 
ing publication to us. It was written by a citizen of 
Langres, a “ Man of Letters ” who had little knowl¬ 
edge of the English language, and though ambitious 
to learn it, had little time to do so before the Ameri¬ 
can soldiers arrived in his native city. To the great 
joy of the American Army there, he proceeded to do 
the translating himself with the aid of a dictionary. 
The result most certainly brought a vivifying touch 
of humor to those regiments encamped at Langres. 
The officers could hear their men shouting with de¬ 
light over its English, gales of laughter filling the air 
as the men perused its pages; this instead of the 
forced composure of an army in deep depression 
before a battle, — for the exit from Langres was 
toward the trenches always. 

The quotations from the “ Guide to Langres ” are 
given, not only because we think it was in the hands of 
our brother that day when he was writing his second 
letter from Langres, but because so much is to be 
learned from it concerning the history, ancient, 
mediaeval, and modern, the climate and civil and re- 
165 



HILL 7 


ligious aspects of the country where so many of our 
brave, disinterested American boys suffered and lost 
their lives. The following letter, from an officer of 
the ist Division, who sent us our copy, will show T how 
the booklet was regarded by him: 

“ In going over my papers, I found this guide 
book to Langres. It is interesting in that it was 
practically written for the consumption of the 
American Army. Langres was the School centre 
and was always full of officers. Being a quaint old 
town, the demand for a guide book was great, so this 
French ‘ Man of Letters,’ wrote the guide book. 
This he did in French, and then, to our great joy, he 
translated it himself with the aid of a dictionary. 
This made it one of the funniest books I have ever 
chanced upon, and read aloud, it is immense. The 
facts are all there, but the exposition is at fault. To 
enjoy it, one should begin with the preface. The 
book contains a map of the city if such it might be 
called. It was a fortress, situated on the top of a 
sugar-loaf mountain, the crest surrounded by a steep 
wall. It is a beautiful spot, and from the ramparts 
you can see the snow topped mountains of a spur of 
the Alps. I believe everyone who visited the town 
has walked around the ramparts, past the watch 
towers, the sally-portes and the pigeon cote, and on 
as far as the gate the Romans built, when they forti¬ 
fied the site.” 

There are many of us who are not familiar with 
eastern France, where so many of our American sol- 
166 













































































- 


































































































































Special Edition 


Cover of “ The Guide to Langres ” 
The ancient doors of Moulins 



























HILL 6 


diers were fighting in 1918, and they themselves 
coming home from this region, anxious to forget it 
all, have raised a barrier of reticence concerning 
their experiences. This “ Guide to Langres ” gives 
information that could not be gathered elsewhere, 
though it is a strange instrument of expression, stam¬ 
mering its way through in great confusion. 

Did any city ever live through so much ancient, 
mediaeval and modern history, founded as it was 
centuries before Christ, battling through many, 
many wars, and coming down to observe “ strange 
from America ” camping at the foot of its mountain, 
preparing to help fight once more. Langres, first a 
city of old Gaul, became a Roman province and 
then, as explained in the Guide, “ Julius Caesar 
lived there long time.” Our imagination runs riot 
with these words. We can visualize Julius Caesar 
sitting there upon the brow of the hill at Langres, 
where our own letter was written, gazing out upon 
the “ wast horizon ” of all Gaul, writing for his own 
commentaries those words so familiar to all Latin 
students: “ Gallia est omnis divisa in partes tres; ” 
— All Gaul is divided into three parts! 

We hope our readers will be beguiled into read¬ 
ing all of the quotations from the Guide and our 
only regret is that the entire booklet may not be 
placed before them with its many pages of history of 
eastern France, its amusing translation, and the idea 
it gives of some of the views that George was enjoy¬ 
ing that morning. 


167 




HILL 7 


THE GUIDE TO LANGRES (PREFACE) 

Before 1887, strange * that ascended to Langres to visit 
the town and its monuments, was obliged to indulge one’s 
self with indications furnished by general guides, such as 
Joanne, Baedeker, and else of the same kind. At the date, 
we have published the first Langres’ guide that appeared, 
and we have so applied a much to be regretted gap, for 
honour of our city. 

In few pages squeezed and compact, that guide comprised 
complete history of the city Langroise, with description de¬ 
tailed of all its monuments. Some competent man in the 
matters we have willing to say that little book had some 
merits. Behold doubtless what explain success of our pub¬ 
lication; the first edition was quick out of print. 

In 1891 appeared a new edition revised, illustrated and 
considerably enlarged, afterwards in a short time a third 
edition corrected and enriched with a great numbers of 
sketchs showing principal curiosities of Langres. 

The third edition was out of print, in the year 1914 we 
prepared a new, when the war began. Since we had not 
believed ought to try that work, but encouraged by numer- 
our demands, we have decided ourselve to do a special 
edition for our American guests. 

In fact, history of our town is no without glory; it present 
even, particular archaeological and artistic, an interest 
wich not have certain towns more important. 

We shall be very happy if the Langres’s Guide might 
please at our dearest allies. 

PRACTICAL INFORMATIONS 

Into the line from Langres from the center of the town 
by a new road: Foot passengers must take the way wich 
tenderd to the Navarre’s tower and entered in town by door 
* Refers to strangers. 

168 



HILL 6 


of Moulins or Porte-Neuve. The way between both sta¬ 
tions is very interesting; rail road line distort the nipple of 
Fourches, and offer to the travellers a picturesque and varie¬ 
gated views upon the city and surrounding contries. 

SITUATION AND CLIMAT OF LANGRES 

Langres’s soil is formed with calcareous or some fossil 
fragments joined between themselves by a ferruginous clay- 
cement; in its culminating point it attaint near 500 metres 
over the nivel of the sea; it distributed its water between 
the Manche by the Marne and its tributaries, the north sea 
by the Meuse and the Mediteranee. The city is situed be¬ 
tween the Bonnelle and the Marne on a promontory which 
expond toward the north and is terminated of its three sides 
by abrupt declivities; only in south a long and narrow plain, 
forming a sort of isthmus between lateral declivities; con¬ 
nect it at the upland and permit easily access on this point. 
In up of its ramparts, wich form an immense elliptical gal¬ 
lery, observer embrasse one of wast horizon that they could 
meet. 

With its towers, its steeples and its domes, Langres pre¬ 
sent from all sides a beautiful aspect; same an eagle neast 
perched into clouds you see it from very far. Hight walls 
wich surround it serve for support walls to heap of rubbish 
on what it is sit down, because raising of ground caused by 
successively ruins heaping up on this point, predominant 
about 7 or 8 metres primitive surface of the upland. City 
has a long square shape. Aspect of town is severe and dark; 
however, it is sufficiently erected; streets are clean but gen¬ 
erally narrow. It is crossed from north to south by a large 
street that share it into two unequal parts: that permit to 
turn to exist easily. Temperature of Langres present con¬ 
siderable variations in the different seasons of year, and same 
to the various time in the day. Spring is cold, hoar-frost 
are then frequent, summer is varm, maxima temperature 

169 



HILL 7 


is 28 to 30 and exceptionally rise to 35. In winter ther¬ 
mometer go down not unfrequently to 10 or 15, seldom any 
more. Cold and snow persist a long while, autumn is the 
most agreeable season, forenoons are coldish but daytime 
are might well. Storm are frequent. It is not scarce to see 
a fog into the valley, but air is vivid and sound. 

CIVIL HISTORY 

Langres is a city very rich in antiquity. Six hundred 
years b.c. a glorious expedition of the Lingones to do trem¬ 
ble Rome itself. Nevertheless, they fell under roman dom¬ 
ination (59 years b.c.) they were prompt to submit to 
Ceasar, who struck by advantages that might procure him 
the occupancy of one point so important, either for coun- 
tain the gallic, either for the germany, lived a long while 
with the Lingons. These ones were his stedy allied. Under 
Roman domination, city of Lingons taken a great improve¬ 
ment; ruins wich have discovered prove that habitations 
extended, at south, about 800 metres from actual precent. 
It had one capitol, temple, one owens college, one circus, 
and some triumphal arches; 12 roman ways joined metrop¬ 
olis. 

During the war (Franco-Germany in 1870-71), Langres 
had the chance of don’t see the ennemies in his wall, few 
conflicts unimportant had happened around the place, and 
the truce wich brought the peace was signed at the very time 
when the Prussians prepared to assail the city; newertheless 
the inhabitants had much endured and a great many sol¬ 
diers, bodies in motion and liberate died in the cold, mall 
pox, or by the typhus. 

SOMETHING OF THE RELIGIOUS HISTORY 
OF LANGRES 

The ancients Lingrois had for religion the one of all the 
people of the Gaul; they adopted easily the superstitions 

170 



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and customs from Roma, so that when the Christianity 
spiread in Langres, it was a city rather roman than Gallic. 

Protestant reform penetrated in Langres about midle of 
the XVI Century; in 1548, minister Largillere and several 
coreligionists having surprised during who done the Lord's 
supper, in the private house belonging at Tafinon, they 
were condemned to die and they were burned on the market 
place of place of Apport du Pain the house was razed to the 
ground and on the same piece of ground, the dean of Chap¬ 
ter House erected a chapel called “ The Lord’s Supper or 
Chapelotte ” — that chapel has substitured until the Revo¬ 
lution, and now we see again some rests. 

Several councils were held at Langres; in 830 Agobard 
from Lyon presided over Langres a provincial council, in 
presence of King Louis. In 859 the first meeting terminated 
in Savonnieres and after was held in Langres, where the 
bishops treated there matters of the grace, predestination 
and freewill. 

And one more reference from the little book 
“ The Langres Guide ” as to the Rack Railway. 
Lieutenant Shipley went up to the city of Langres on 
his motorcycle, scorning the rack railway that he 
might get a better view of the country which he 
wrote was “ worth while.” 

RACK RAILWAY 

One of the principal curiosities of the city of Langres, it 
is certainly the rack-railway established in 1887 and destined 
to climb the montain on which the town is sit down. For¬ 
merly travellers were obliged to go from station to the city, 
to do on foot the journey about forty minutes along to way 
on top of wich they arrived tired and quite out of breath. 
We ought to the travellers arriving by the valley a scaling 
so hard? 

171 



HILL 7 


Soon after the posting of his last letter to the 
writer, September 1, 1918, his Division, the 79th, 
left Langres to march to the fighting area. In a pre¬ 
vious letter he had said: “ We will go into a part of 
France where the scenery is about the most beauti¬ 
ful in the country.” This he contradicts in his last 
letter to his mother. “ The dope about the beauti¬ 
ful scenery was all wrong, we go to a place where 
the Americans are going forward in a new offensive.” 
His Division went straight toward the Argonne For¬ 
est and his letters, written September 14 and 16, we 
think, were sent from Bar-le-Duc, not far south of 
Souilly, the headquarters of the First Army, where 
General Pershing was to be, directing the Meuse-Ar- 
gonne battle which began September 26, 1918. As 
the 79th were making their way northward, toward 
Souilly, the battle of St. Mihiel, conducted by the 
1st and 3rd and 42nd Divisions, was going on, and 
the great Paris-Verdun road must have been crowded 
with supplies of all kinds, ammunitions and war 
vehicles of every description, advancing toward the 
scene of those American operations. 

Whether our soldier gave much thought to the 
history of the country through which he was passing 
for the first time will never be known, but for us it 
is interesting to study some of the facts, and place 
them in their geographical location on the map of 
France, to form a background for the tragedy toward 
which he was so bravely making his way. 

George had written that the trip toward the front 
172 



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would be by train, and that the terminal was fifty 
miles from Langres, so they must soon have entered 
the great Paris-Verdun road called “ the Sacred 
Way.” We wonder if any one pointed out to the 
American boys as they passed over this historical 
highway the place where our friend — our young 
friend — the Marquis de LaFayette of 1776, had sol¬ 
diers of the National Guard intercept King Louis 
XVI and his queen, Marie Antoinette, as they were 
fleeing for their lives from the revolutionary popu¬ 
lace. A French leader said of this event: “ We are 
at w r hat is perhaps the most solemn moment that 
history has ever consecrated in the annals of any 
nation.” 

If that were true, how may we pass this Verdun- 
Paris road without recalling those events? The king 
and the queen had fled from Paris, and LaFayette, 
being the head of the National Guard, had sent to 
have them overtaken. On Friday (they had left 
Paris on Tuesday), word came “ that the king and 
the queen had been arrested at Varennes ” — but 
where was Varennes? No one knew. At last it was 
found to be a village near Verdun in the Argonne. 
Bouille, the king’s body guard, and his men were at 
Clermont en Argonne, held back only by the Na¬ 
tional Guard of LaFayette. Civil war was at hand. 
The king and queen were found at Varennes and 
from that point were brought back to Paris, La 
Fayette cantering out as far as Bantin, his cavalry 
having gone as far as Bondy Wood to meet the royal 

173 



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party. And if our soldiers knew of this village and 
Clermont, too, in the Argonne, how interested must 
they have been as they passed by on the Sacred 
Way. This little village of Varennes, quite un¬ 
known before, was now swept into the history of 
France by the whirlwind of events, because the king 
and queen and their family had been taken there in 
the “ mean house of Sauce the chandler.’* 

And from Varennes, the little village that played 
so important a part in the life of our friend La 
Fayette, their thoughts must have flown to another 
little village in this vicinity, Domremy, birthplace of 
Joan of Arc, where she heard the voice that sent 
her out to restore King Charles to his throne. The 
following excerpt from the letters of a Chicago 
chaplain — written from France after the war was 
over — will help us to visualize the country of Joan 
of Arc through which our soldiers were now passing: 
“ From the hilltop overlooking the city of Neuf- 
chateau, one sees the wide valley of the Meuse — on 
the other side of the valley situated well up on the 
hillside, one may see the pretty little village of Dom¬ 
remy, with its red tiled roofs against gleaming walls 
of white limestone, and for its background, those 
dark sombre pines which give it a most enchanting 
setting. The most conspicuous feature of this 
world-famous place is the ‘ basilique ’ consecrated to 
the memory of that little Maid of Orleans, who in 
19 short years, dreamed her dreams of astonishing 
presumption, led the armies of France to victory, 
174 



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thus ending the hundred years war of France with 
England, witnessed the crowning of Charles VII of 
France at Rheims, and finally paid the price of mar¬ 
tyrdom at Rouen, for simple faith which bade her 
go in the name of God and do her duty. Of Dom- 
remy I could write a book of all I felt and dreamed 
and saw there. I walked through the pastures where 
Joan pastured her cows, saw the simple wayside 
cross where she worshipped, and passed through the 
sombre woods ‘ with their murmuring pines and 
hemlocks ’ where she heard voices and saw spirits. 
I entered the little house where she was born and 
the little church where she regularly worshipped, 
abounding in evidence that the nation she had saved 
remembered her, though its gratitude came too late 
to save her from the flames.” 

If the American soldiers as they were marching 
toward the battle line from their camp at Langres, 
were too much occupied with other thoughts to be 
recalling the past history of those two small villages 
of Varennes and Domremy, they, or at least some 
of them, would have been thinking of the great for¬ 
tified city of Verdun which lay over to the east as 
they traveled toward the north and which is de¬ 
scribed in one history in this way: “ Verdun, a 
great fortress in northeastern France, on the Meuse 
River, a gateway into the heart of France, the fame 
of which will last as long as history, because of 
the battle fought there, which for length and in¬ 
tensity has never been equalled and which re- 
175 



HILL 7 


suited in the defeat of the army of the German 
Crown Prince.” 

Had they glanced toward Verdun, for they were 
now nearing Souilly, they might have felt exceed¬ 
ingly proud to be helping this country of France. 
France at Verdun had battled against the German 
invaders early in the war for five months — not five 
days, which was about the longest period of time 
any battle of the world had up to that time lasted, 
not five weeks, but five MONTHS they fought to 
keep the Germans from passing into their beloved 
country. Petain said at this time: “ They shall not 
pass ” — and his soldiers prevented them from 
passing. 

The munitions and food and the French regi¬ 
ments themselves moved from Paris to Verdun those 
awful months over a road about 123 miles long ever 
after called “ the Sacred Way.” Our men were 
marching toward this “ sacred way,” to Souilly, 
whose city hall (as we would name it) was directly 
upon this now famous road to Verdun. 

Our soldiers might have felt proud to be helping 
France as they looked over at Verdun and thought 
of the five months’ carnage, but they would also have 
felt some misgivings as to their own possible fate in 
preparing to prevent the same German army from 
passing into Souilly, Paris, and this country of 
France. 

Our illustration of Souilly is from those earlier 
days and General Petain is standing upon the steps 
176 



HILL 6 


of this Town Hall and may at the very moment have 
been uttering those memorable words: “ They shall 
not pass/’ 

As to Verdun’s ancient history, this typical forti¬ 
fied city of France was in 800 a.d. a Gallic town, 
then a Roman fortress, and from time immemorial 
it has played an important part in resisting invasion 
on account of its situation at the center of a great 
circle of hills covered with forts, bristling with de¬ 
fensive works and batteries. Since Attila left it in 450 
“ like a field ravaged by wild beasts ” it has been be¬ 
sieged at least ten times. 

And now here in 1915, listen to a French soldier 
talking of the battle of Verdun in which he took 
part. The excerpt comes from Dr. Van Dyke’s story 
“ The Broken Soldier.” “ Then we were sent to 
Verdun. That was the hottest place of all. It was at 
the top of the big German drive. The whole sea 
rushed and fell on us — big guns, little guns, poison- 
gas, hand-grenades, liquid fire, bayonets, knives and 
trench clubs. Fort after fort went down. The 
whole pack of hell was loose and raging. I thought 
of that crazy Crown Prince sitting in his safe little 
cottage hidden in the woods somewhere — they say 
he had flowers and vines planted around it — drink¬ 
ing stolen champagne and sicking on his dogs of 
death. He was in no danger, that blood-lord! The 
shells rained on Verdun. The houses were riddled; 
the cathedral was pierced in a dozen places; a hun¬ 
dred fires broke out, but the old citadel held good. — 
177 



HILL 7 


We went gladly, without fear or holding back. We 
were resolute that those mad dogs should not get 
through. ‘ They shall not pass! ’ And they did not 
pass! ” 

And, children, here is a story of Verdun which no 
one can forget who has ever heard it, the story of a 
little white dove, given in just a few words, for we 
must get on with our own story and its warrior. 

It was a little white dove at Fort Vaux — one of 
the great forts lying near the city of Verdun, where 
the hills about were bleak with the desolation of 
war, for ten thousand German youths fell before this 
fort alone in their attempt to obey the orders of the 
German Crown Prince to “ Take these forts at all 
cost.” On July 3, 1916, one French account says: 
“ There were left only fifty men in the fort, they 
must remain within the deepest part of the fort, 
none could be outside with the fearful bombard¬ 
ment going on, and by noon only twenty men were 
left, and in the evening but a handful.” The only 
communication with the outside world was by 
pigeons, and in the evening the last white dove was 
sent out on its mission of reports to the home base. 
It winged its way up through the smoke, the shrap¬ 
nel, the guns and the horrible darkness of the fort, 
and it must have gone safely thru and reached its 
objective, for one account of this incident says that 
the message which the little dove carried ended with 
these words: “ We have reached the limit, officers 
and soldiers have done their duty. Long live 
178 



HILL 6 


France.” “The wings of a bird — the soul of 
man! ” Was it not the great French writer, Victor 
Hugo himself, who wrote: 

Let us be like a bird a moment lighted 
Upon a branch that sways and swings: 

He sings on unaffrighted, 

Knowing he has his wings! 

The fort did hold out for some time longer, how¬ 
ever, and it was not finally overpowered until the 
8th of July, when it fell after seven days and nights 
of continuous fighting. A few months later, on 
November 2, the Germans were driven out of Fort 
Vaux a good deal faster than they had come in. 

But the story of this region goes back of history 
and ancient history into pre-history and anthropol¬ 
ogy, for it was in the caves near the city of Langres, 
south central France, that the skulls of that ancient 
race, the Cro-Magnons, were found, and Mr. N. G. 
Moore, in his book The Theory of Evolution says 
that the Cro-Magnon race represents in all aspects 
the highest point to which the human race ever at¬ 
tained, and in evidence displays a picture of a re¬ 
stored skull on page 200 of his book. 

Now, it is time for 1918 again and the battle 
which was being fought east of Souilly, not far from 
Verdun, while our boys of the 79th Division were 
traveling north to their new position about Souilly, 
headquarters of the Fifth Army Corps under the 
command of General Summerall. At the time of 
the Argonne battle, General Pershing himself was 
179 



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there; to quote from his book: “ during the Meuse- 
Argonne battle, my personal quarters were on my 
train which lay partially hidden in the woods back 
of a spur, near Souilly, giving directions regarding 
operations and deciding other important questions.” 

But before we begin to read of the Meuse-Argonne 
battle, the St. Mihiel must take some of our atten¬ 
tion, for the divisions fighting there came to help in 
the Argonne battle after the victory at St. Mihiel 
which resulted in the unblocking of old Verdun, 
Vaux, and the other forts. The three Army Corps 
headquarters to participate in the St. Mihiel attack 
were the First, Fourth and Fifth. In the center of 
the Fourth Corps, marching up to this battle, was 
another Oak Park soldier. From an address which 
he made in Oak Park some time after, we quote this 
description, brief, yet realistic, of his part in this 
attack. It tells what was transpiring east of Souilly 
as our boys of the 79th were preparing for the Ar¬ 
gonne battle which began September 26, 1918: 

“ On the night of September 9 we were halted a 
bit earlier than usual and the next morning officers 
were called together and were informed of the plan 
of pinching off the St. Mihiel salient. Our division 
was in the center — Oh, such a night, September 11 
and 12 , when our division moved up in the front 
trenches: raining torrents, water waist deep, en¬ 
gineers, machine gunners and other auxiliary units 
all attempting with us to get into the same place at 
the same time, 100,000 American boys massed for 
180 



HILL 6 


the zero hour. At 1 a.m. sharp the entire sky was 
lit up and it seemed that the stillness of 12:59 made 
the din of one o’clock more terrific. For four hours 
and a half such pounding, such demoralization. At 
5:15 we were to crawl out and, but for those on 
either side, you wouldn’t have known what was go¬ 
ing on along the entire line, but at 5:30 the earth 
seemed to grow men and the woods moved. Shout¬ 
ing at the top of our voices ‘ D Company this way ’ 
we started — the Very lights, planes, tanks, the 
cracking of machine guns, the constant lifting of the 
barrage and nothing much to upset the plans of a 
well oiled machine. Our battalion captured 500 
German prisoners. Outside of the digging in, the 
consolidation of line established, a few raids, etc., 
St. Mihiel was easy. We were moved out of the 
lines on September 59 — ‘you will be in readiness 
to move by dusk of the 30th,’ and sure as you live, on 
the 30th we were again on our way — but it was all 
right — the sound of the shells was getting fainter 
and fainter, and how we hiked that night! In the 
morning we found we had circled Verdun and were 
but fifteen kilometers back of Montfaucon as re¬ 
serve to the Fifth Army Corps.” 

So, on September 29, our Oak Park soldier of the 
Fourth Army Corps, after the St. Mihiel engage¬ 
ment, was at Souilly, whence the subject of our story, 
George Shipley, had marched away just a few hours 
before, as he left for the trenches of the Meuse- 
Argonne offensive. 


181 



HILL 7 


But just a word as to St. Mihiel: “ The battle of 
St. Mihiel was the first wholly American battle of 
the World War — but no contest of the war was 
more definitely complete, more fully successful or 
more expeditious than this one. One writer has de¬ 
scribed it as ‘ the battle without a flaw.’ What this 
first American army did was to take from the Ger¬ 
mans the famous St. Mihiel salient covering about 
200 square miles of ground. This salient had always 
been a point of dangerous threat against France, 
especially Verdun and Paris. The Americans num¬ 
bered 200,000, and the Germans, about 100,000 
strong, made a hurried retreat as the Americans 
made their attack.” 

How little the head of the German army, Crown 
Prince Frederick William, understood the strength 
and power of the American army, for in a long ar¬ 
ticle given out to the German press, he says this: 
“ The French fight brilliantly and are bleeding to 
death. They do not hesitate at any sacrifice. With 
the English the individual is very good and tena¬ 
cious, but the leadership is deficient. But regarding 
the American forces in France, I have found that the 
majority do not know what they are fighting for. 
We feel the effect of their entry and they have sent 
over very much material, and now are sending much 
human material; but of the American prisoners I 
have questioned, the majority do not know what it is 
all about.” 

An American paper thus expresses the impression 
182 



HILL 6 


made upon our country by this victory at St. Mihiel: 
“ The enemy did not offer the opposition expected 
of him, but that was partly due to the perfection in 
the conception and execution of the attack by which 
he was stopped.” 

And now we approach the day when the Ameri¬ 
cans began their hugest battle, the Meuse-Argonne, 
for, before the St. Mihiel salient was “ pinched off ” 
as the foregoing article expressed it, the boys of the 
79th Division were already in their new positions 
about Souilly, waiting for their orders to go into 
the French trenches about that part of the long 
front from the Sea to Switzerland which they were 
to occupy. General Pershing and General Sum- 
merall, at their headquarters in Souilly, were finish¬ 
ing the plans for this battle, which was to begin with 
the most monstrous bombardment that has ever 
taken place in all history, that of the midnight be¬ 
fore September 26, 1918. So, as we see our men, 
numbering nine divisions, advance toward these 
scenes of their Gethsemane, the letters of Lieutenant 
Shipley, written on arriving there, will be given. 
His last to his mother, or to any one as far as we 
know, was written on September 16, and one to a 
niece on September 14. With these we shall start 
our perusal of the final chapter in our brother’s life, 
which is to be called “ Hill 7,” his last ascent, and 
his most perilous one. 


183 













f 

























i 


























\ 






































































































Hill 7 — Montfaucon 

The building from which the German Crown Prince watched the first shelling of Verdu 

through his periscope 







HILL 7 

MONTFAUCON 

The Front Line Headquarters of the German 
Crown Prince 

A French poet sings thus of the hills of his native 
France: 


How sweet to cling to the sides of this hill, 

A grand staircase up to God. 

AUTHOR UNKNOWN 

American Y.M.C.A., Sept. 14, 1918 

Dear I: 

Was certainly pleased to get your letter, it was the 
first one and I did not expect to hear as soon, because 
I thot you would wait until you received a mailing 
address from me. Fortunately you did not and I 
appreciate your initiative. We are moving now, right 
along, not to the quiet sector in the mountains, but 
to one more active and more interesting. Can’t tell 
you, of course, where I am, but we are near a place 
famous in months gone by, and of which you have 
read many times on the maps. This is a good town 
but we leave it tonight for a two-night march of about 
fifteen kilometers each. Night marching is in order 
from now on, and gas masks in the alert position, 
which I think is a little over-cautious. However, I 
185 




HILL 7 


saw last night the glare of the big guns for the first 
time tho I could not hear anything. You should 
have seen the air planes that were flying over this 
place, all day. Our own, of course, and some flew 
pretty low. This town has not had a visit from the 
German airships for a year, but the wrecked build¬ 
ings are still here. What interests me most here, are 
the little dugouts that are located here and there 
around the town. Some of them have concrete steps 
down into them, and you might think them to be 
subway entrances. If I could only master this French 
tongue and speak so that I could be understood I 
think I would like to come back here again. This 
town has plenty of conveniences that have been lack¬ 
ing from our experiences for a long time, such as hot 
baths, square meals, good shops, etc. I certainly was 
glad to get here. Did I tell you that I had a most in¬ 
teresting three days visit to Paris? Had the best time 
of my life, and believe me, am going back there again, 
if possible. As far as I have been able to observe, the 
French people are not suffering much for want of 
food or clothing. I bought today a pair of English 
military trousers, that are really riding breeches, 
warm as toast and reinforced with leather around the 
knees. They come nearly up to my neck, so I have 
to wear suspenders with them. They are the best 
things Eve seen yet, for wear. Well, this pen is get¬ 
ting nearly ready to make me swear, it is so rotten. 
Give my regards to the bunch — my tenderest senti¬ 
ments to my sister-mother. Am in splendid health 
186 



HILL 7 


and am well provided for the coming offensive which 
you will have read about before you receive this 
scribble. 

George 

THE LAST LETTER! 

Sept. 16, 1918 

Dear Mother: 

Have been so busy have not had time to write to 
anyone, but hope you will get this note, to let you 
know that everything with me is excellent, so far, and 
I expect it will be all along. It will not be possible 
for me to let you know where I am, but we have 
moved twice since I last wrote and are leaving again 
tonight for a two-nights’ march and then we will be 
at our permanent place, as far as we know, for a 
month or two anyhow. Last night I saw the flash of 
the big guns for the first time, the sky was well lit up 
but I was not near enough to be able to give you any 
more description. The town I am in now you will 
all have seen on the map many times, it has not been 
bombarded for a year. Across the street from where 
I am now I can see a room, a wrecked building, that 
gives physical evidence of the last German visit, a 
year ago. Our airships were flying over this town all 
day yesterday, and last evening, I saw a formation of 
airplanes that looked just like a flock of geese, in the 
shape of a V. They were starting out to the front, 
to bombard the enemy. This is the most interesting 
place that I have seen yet. Everything is going along 
187 



HILL 7 


here fine, we have been traveling in trains, but from 
now on it will be night marches, with our helmets on 
and in gas masks and in alert position. I read in this 
morning’s paper that the Americans were taking a 
certain town, and I suppose the glare in the sky that 
I saw last night must have been part of that move¬ 
ment. There are quite a few Americans here, nurses 
and Red Cross helpers, etc. Most of the people — I 
mean soldiers, etc. — are French, however, and every¬ 
thing is very interesting. I think among the prettiest 
things in France are the little canals that wind all over 
the country, with locks, towboats, towpaths, the 
pretty trees in rows on both sides, the little bridges 
that span them and the clear water that is always in¬ 
viting you to take a swim. The last time I wrote, I 
mentioned the fact of going into some beautiful scen¬ 
ery, but the dope was all wrong. Have been sent to 
a different place, which according to this morning’s 
paper is getting into a new offensive. I trust you are 
all well and happy over the progress which the Allies 
are making. I believe the fighting will stop by 
Christmas, with a sure victory for us. 

George 

At this time he was billeted with the 304th Sani¬ 
tary Train, being Supply Officer of the 79th Division, 
stationed at Geddeon. 

Lieutenant Shipley’s orders were to report at the 
Fifth Army Corps headquarters on September 25 and 
from there he was to present himself at the First Army 
188 



HILL 7 


headquarters from which General Pershing directed 
the battle. We have an official cable from General 
Summerall that he did report at the Fifth Army 
Corps headquarters on that day. He then returned 
to his billet at the Hospital Unit at Geddeon — no 
doubt to gather up his equipment there, before re¬ 
turning to First Army headquarters. 

All that we know for certain about his movements 
from this point on is the fact that he left Geddeon 
shortly after September 26th and on or about Octo¬ 
ber 2nd arrived at the front line of the Third Divi¬ 
sion, Company “ B,” 4th Infantry. As he proceeded 
that day north toward Montfaucon, and always under 
fire, without doubt a great change was passing over 
him. Up to this time, his life in military service had 
been a continual joy to him, as it were, the simplicity, 
the out-of-doorness, as his letters had shown. Now, 
all is changed. He had been viewing the flash of the 
big guns for several nights; now he was not only to 
see them, but to hear them as well. Browning’s lines, 
or some thoughts similar, might have been his as he 
approached this real service in earnest: 

Up Cavalier, up, lips from the cup. 

Hands from the pasty, nor bite take nor sup. 

He had climbed the hills for the sunset and moun¬ 
tain views, Baldy, Happy Hill at Dartmouth, Pike’s 
Peak, Arlington, Langres, and now he approaches 
the last hill, Hill 7, Montfaucon. 

As Lieutenant Shipley begins his fearful journey, 
189 



HILL 7 


the following letter that appeared in “ Oak Leaves ” 
some time after the war was over, will tell us some¬ 
thing of this Montfaucon, the highest point in the 
neighborhood, with its city destroyed and in ashes 
when our soldiers reached it during those days of 
late September, 1918. Many of them must have seen 
the quarters of the German Crown Prince, his first 
line headquarters, where he watched the earlier days 
of the shelling of Verdun in 1914. These quarters 
being below and quite protected were easily inspected 
by those who entered Montfaucon: 

“ My trip took me thru Dombasle, Montfaucon, 
Nantillois, Dead Man’s Hill No. 304, and returning, 
we came thru the Argonne Forest, where some of 
the hardest fighting of the war occurred. Montfau¬ 
con is the town or city rather and it was a city of no 
mean importance before the War, of which the 
French said in speaking of the possibility of its cap¬ 
ture, ‘ pas possible a prendre ’ — (impossible to cap¬ 
ture) . Now it is nothing but a heap of stones, its 
streets filled with fallen buildings, its cemeteries with 
their sacred dead, blown hither and yon, their monu¬ 
ments shattered and their rest at least in this world, 
forever disturbed. Montfaucon is the city where the 
German Crown Prince had his residence for some 
time. I was in the house which he occupied as his 
quarters, it’s about the only house left standing in the 
whole city. Some of the elegant furniture is still 
there and the bath room which he had had fitted up, 
electric lights, and every modern convenience, all for 
190 



HILL 7 


that bit of Hohenzollern whose vanity and presump¬ 
tion so disturbed the peace of the whole world. The 
house from which he observed the artillery fire on 
Verdun is completely fallen down, but one may get a 
fairly good idea of its advantageous point for observ¬ 
ing the destructive accuracy of those big German 
guns.” This letter was dated March 16, 1919, and 
was published in the Oak Park paper a month later. 

After the two letters which stand at the head of this 
chapter, written September 14 and 16 and received in 
Chicago about a month later, there was no further 
word from him until November. A day or so before 
the Armistice, a box of exquisite laces mailed from 
Paris came for his womenfolk, with a card enclosed 
saying: “ Hope you enjoy these as much as I enjoyed 
buying them. George.” The package was mailed in 
Paris in AUGUST. One piece of this precious heir¬ 
loom has already served as a bridal veil in three dif¬ 
ferent wedding ceremonies in our family. 

As days passed and no further word came from 
Lieutenant Shipley, cables were sent to France for 
information concerning him. But not until Janu¬ 
ary 11, 1919, did any information come, when a cable 
was received reading: “ Reference 2nd Lt. George E. 
Shipley, left these headquarters September 25, en- 
route headquarters First Army. He was directed to 
report to the Chief of Staff, First Army Souilly. No 
further information. Summerall.” It was Major 
Whiting of Pershing’s staff who conducted for us this 
search for information concerning Lieutenant Ship- 
19 1 



HILL 7 


ley. This cable, received by him from Souilly, was 
forwarded by him from Paris. 

But before we continue our story of Lieutenant 
Shipley, the battle itself should receive some atten¬ 
tion, the battle of the Meuse-Argonne. A battle de¬ 
scription makes unpleasant reading, but for that rea¬ 
son, shall we forget the heroism of those who took 
part in it? The 79th Division, General Kuhn in com¬ 
mand, arrived in Brest, July 20, 1918, and now, six 
weeks later, they were marching into the storm of 
steel as the barrage lifted on the morning of Septem¬ 
ber 26, 1918, at five thirty o’clock. Although the 
79th had never been under fire before, having had 
only training camp experience, much was expected 
of them. After taking the first line trenches, they 
were to cover the most ground of any division on 
the first day, the very center of this fortification 
front from Switzerland to the Sea. The Fifth Army 
Corps, of which the 79th was a part, was sup¬ 
posed to take Montfaucon on the night of the 26th. 
“ Montfaucon must be taken,” said the order, “ by 
the 27th, early too, or the pencilings on the map 
would be fatally behind ambitious objectives in the 
center.” 

As these brave troops marched into this devastat¬ 
ing, horrible carnage, their souls must have been 
filled with a sudden, wild homesickness — but they 
steadily proceeded. 

A soldier friend of our family, Dr. Earle Fowler, 
a surgeon in the Presbyterian Hospital Unit, sta- 

192 



HILL 7 


tioned at Toul, attempted to pass beyond Montfau- 
con after the Armistice, but because of the terrific 
upheaval of the ground in every direction, and the 
impassable condition of the way going north, he 
found it out of the question to proceed. Another 
soldier frilend, however, later in the year, was able 
to get a mile or so farther north and the following 
is his description of that journey, even then so diffi¬ 
cult: 

“ I think in the last few weeks, the effort for an 
armistice rather shut off from the public view the 
wonderful work of our First Army in the Argonne 
Forest. It is just unbelievable that any humans 
could go thru the terrain and fortifications that 
they did in the last month of fighting. It was a woods 
of dense barbed wire, trenches, holes, snares, under¬ 
brush and mud that was a veritable death trap for the 
machine guns. I do not believe that any one but 
Americans could have done it. I say this without dis¬ 
respect for our Allies, for I have nothing but admira¬ 
tion for them and their men. But it was a genuine 
American trick to do the impossible, and that fight¬ 
ing has been spoken of by both the French and Brit¬ 
ish as the most wonderful and brilliant offensive 
fighting of the entire war. I can write you thus, be¬ 
cause I shall always regret that I was not in the 
Argonne battle. Of course, Verdun will always 
stand as a memorial of the most determined and won¬ 
derful offensive fighting of the war — and with it, as 
well as alongside of it, the Argonne battle should be 
193 



HILL 7 


recorded the most brilliant and determined offensive 
campaign.” 

Is it like trying to describe the other side of the 
moon for me to describe even in little the battle of 
the Argonne? So it might seem, but possessing two 
great books on this battle, written immediately after 
the war, by two young men who were close behind the 
lines all through not only this battle but others of 
the A. E. F., I have found it possible to attempt the 
description. Shipley Thomas, the first official his¬ 
torian of the A. E. F.,* was himself one hundred 
seventeen days in the front line without being evacu¬ 
ated for any cause whatsoever; and Frederick Palmer, 
author of Our Greatest Battle, was an observer 
who had the freedom of our lines and of those of our 
Allies in France and saw all our divisions in action 
and all the processes of combat and organization. 
These two authors have given the writer their gra¬ 
cious permission to quote from their books, Mr. 
Thomas answering thus: “ Please feel free to use any¬ 
thing you wish from my book in writing the story of 
your brother. If I can be of the slightest assistance, 
please call on me.” And on November 5, 1932, Mr. 
Palmer answers from Garrison, New York: “ You 
are very welcome, indeed, to quote from my book, 
Our Greatest Battle, for so worthy a cause as per¬ 
petuating the memory of your brother for your 

* The History of the A. E. F. as written by Shipley Thomas (a very 
distant cousin of Lieutenant Shipley), is now used as a text-book in 
Princeton and other schools. 


194 



HILL 7 


grandsons.” So, with the kind consent of these two 
writers, we begin a narrative of the battle in which 
Lieutenant Shipley served. 

The battle of the Argonne began on September 
26, 1918, and ended on November 11, 1918. Lieu¬ 
tenant Shipley had come to France with the 79th Di¬ 
vision; later, about October 3, he had joined the 3rd 
Division, Company B of the 4th Infantry and, had 
he lived, would certainly have been most ambitious 
to accompany the 1st Division when they marched 
toward Sedan on November 1 o. So, in choosing quo¬ 
tations from our histories, only those will be taken 
which carry plainly on from the first day, September 
26, through to the end of this battle on November 11, 
and this account shall be called: “ From Souilly to 
Sedan,” Sedan being the city fifteen miles north of 
Nantillois where the war ended. 

As we learn later, Lieutenant Shipley’s company, 
304th Sanitary Train, had billeted at Geddeon, 
which was in the neighborhood of Souilly, billeted 
with the Hospital unit, he being Supply Officer of 
the 79th Division. 

This battle of the Argonne occupied a great terri¬ 
tory, but our map depicts only that part of the battle 
in which Lieutenant Shipley served, except that the 
route from Nantillois to Sedan is added to show the 
position of our troops when the war ended, that is, 
of the 1st Division, which was in Sedan that week of 
November 8. So the places to note on this map are 
Langres, where Lieutenant Shipley was encamped af- 
195 



HILL 7 


ter his arrival in France; Bar-le-Duc, where he wrote 
his last letters home; Souilly, whence he set forth 
about September 26; Montfaucon, where he left his 
motorcycle, as seen by Captain Gillette; Nantillois, 
the scene of terrific fighting, according to all ac¬ 
counts; and, away in the north, Sedan, where the 
war ended on November 11, 1918. These several 
points, being directly north and south on this map, 
may be plainly located, and the route which Lieu¬ 
tenant Shipley traversed as he made his way from 
Langres to Nantillois may be easily traced. His last 
letters from Bar-le-Duc were written on September 
14 and 16, and ten days later while he was preparing 
for his journey from Geddeon the battle of the 
Meuse-Argonne began, the monstrous barrage burst¬ 
ing forth at midnight and the brave men of the 79th 
“ jumping off ” at 5:30 that morning, September 26, 
from their trenches in front of Montfaucon. 

FROM SOUILLY TO SEDAN 

When Major General John J. Pershing arrived in 
England on the steamer Baltic on June 9, 1917, he 
received a royal welcome. During an audience with 
the King, later, his Majesty said: “ It has been the 
dream of my life that the two English-speaking na¬ 
tions might be more closely united. Now my dream 
is realized.” Upon reaching the shores of France, the 
American General was welcomed with even greater 
acclaim. Entering the French Chamber of Deputies, 
196 



HILL 7 


he received a tremendous ovation. When he went 
with General Joffre to the tomb of Napoleon, down 
in the crypt, the case containing the sword of Napo¬ 
leon was opened for the first time in a century, and 
when Joffre gave him the sword to examine, Per¬ 
shing had received a still greater honor, for it was the 
first time such privilege had ever been offered any 
mortal! 

America had declared war upon Germany on 
April 6, 1917, and on June 5, nearly ten million men 
of military age had registered for military service 
under the Selective Service Act. On June 26, the 
1st Division arrived in France and on October 21, 
the 1st Division entered the fighting area with the 
French, the first division to do so, at the Sommer- 
ville sector. With their first casualty occurring No¬ 
vember 3, the 1st Division was the first to make 
good the promises of America. 

And now for nearly a year the American boys had 
been making their word good with their lives in all 
the different battles in which they had been placed in 
France and elsewhere. The Meuse-Argonne was 
about to begin: the most monstrous battle, in num¬ 
bers, materials used, territory crossed, resistance met, 
and the long preparation of the ground by the Ger¬ 
mans, in which America ever fought. 

“ If you want peace, prepare for war,” was a very 
familiar saying in 1914, an extract from the Devil’s 
Book of Proverbs. An English paper of 1933 makes 
this suggestion: “ If you want peace, READ about 
197 



HILL 7 


the latest war.” So in the interest of preparing for 
peace, this narrative of the battle of the Meuse- 
Argonne is written. 

The 79th Division reached Souilly on September 
22 — as Lieutenant Shipley had written in his letter 
of the 16th: “ by two night marches ” — but his own 
company, the 304th Sanitary Train, billeted with the 
Hospital unit near Souilly, went no further when 
reaching that point, Souilly. 

Souilly has about eighteen thousand inhabitants 
and is about fifteen miles north of Bar-le-duc, its 
main street being the famous “ Sacred Way ” be¬ 
tween Verdun and Paris. From the Town Hall situ¬ 
ated upon this “ Sacred Way ” the battle of the Ar- 
gonne was to be planned and directed. There were 
two front rooms connected by a “ small stuffy ante¬ 
room.” General Pershing sat in one, General Sum- 
merall in the other, the one being the quarters of the 
Commander in Chief of the Army, the other, Sum- 
meralFs, being the quarters of the Fifth Army Corps. 

Although we are studying only the work of the 
79th Division particularly, we must now, since we 
have reached the date September 22, take just one 
view of the whole picture of the Allies attacking the 
enemies on the entire front, beginning September 2 1 
in Macedonia, and the battle proceeding west from 
there to Flanders — “by precision and power, in a 
period of eight days, the successive blows of armies 
extending from Asia Minor to the English Channel, 
delivered like hammer strokes upon the vital fronts 
198 




















































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• • 












Igmm 




* - ..-‘^V..'' 










■•••.■*>; as 




■ 


jUibliirfirtiitliS 


The Town Hall of Souilly 

Shoiving Marshals Joffre and Petain in 1916 . Lieutenant Shipley ascended these steps 

when he reported to General Summerall in 1918 










HILL 7 


of the Central Powers.” — From Asia Minor to the 
English Channel! 

History says: “ From the beginning, all these at¬ 
tacks met with success, more or less rapid, according 
to the difficulties encountered. All were sustained 
with unrelaxing vigor and all drove forward with in¬ 
creasing momentum as time went on and the enemy 
became more and more exhausted, until complete 
victory was achieved.” So this September 22 is an 
important date to remember, for it saw the begin¬ 
ning of the effort of the Allies which ended the war, 
and our American boys were a great part of it all. 

When the 79th Division arrived in Souilly, they 
were not to remain there, they were to march on far¬ 
ther north, and were to take over the trenches of the 
French soldiers, whom, as they marched out, they 
must have met returning to the rear of the fighting 
at Souilly. The French officers reported at the 
Town Hall as they arrived at Souilly on their return 
from the trenches, and it is written that as they left 
the Town Hall, where Pershing and Summerall were 
seated, they said: “ The Americans have taken over 
the French trenches now — a pleasant morning to 
you, gentlemen.” 

And soon the thunder of the bombardment of the 
A. E. F. was crashing forth over the Argonne. 

As the 79th Division arrives on this 22nd day of 
September, 1918, and awaits the word from the Com¬ 
mander in Chief to proceed to the French trenches, 
it is appropriate to call attention to the reason why 
199 



HILL 7 


all plans were changed by the generals in charge — 
a change which caused such a wave of indignation in 
America. Why were the boys not kept through a 
winter’s campaign and so prepared for a spring offen¬ 
sive? The 79th Division had never been under fire, 
some had never heard the sound of the enemies’ 
guns. And the reasons the plans were changed were 
these: though a winter’s camp might help our men 
in preparing for a spring offensive, it would also give 
the Germans a chance to find out about the strength 
of the American forces and to be ready in the spring 
to conquer them all, because of the time given them 
to prepare for it. A great many American soldiers 
would be killed in this offensive, there was no doubt 
of that, but, for fifty thousand men killed now, in the 
spring, with the Germans strong in their resistance, 
there would be mayhap a million of our boys slaugh¬ 
tered; and, secondly, the people at home would have 
their period of anxiety and hardship brought to a 
close much sooner by a quicker victory for the Allies. 

George had written to his mother, “ The dope was 
all wrong, we are going into a new offensive, of which 
you will have heard long before this letter reaches 
you.” And so as he comes to Souilly with the 79th 
Division that 22 nd day of September, 1918, General 
Pershing and General Summerall are sitting in their 
offices in the Town Hall of Souilly on the Sacred 
Way, planning to give the word to our boys to begin 
the Meuse-Argonne battle on the 25th, while Foch 
and Haig are likewise in their appointed places di- 
200 



HILL 7 


recting their forces in this battle extending from Asia 
Minor to the English Channel. 

As our brother •writes of night marching, we look 
with interest at the description of such marching as 
one historian gives it: 

“ With each passing day, as the concentration in¬ 
creased, daylight became a more protected foe. ‘ No 
lights, no lights,’ was the watchword which the mili¬ 
tary police spoke with no uncertain terms to any 
chauffeur who thought that one flash of his lamp 
would do no harm. Camouflage became the obses¬ 
sion of everyone who had any responsibility. Dis¬ 
comfort, loss of temper and of time were the handi¬ 
caps in this blindman’s buff of trying to keep the 
landscape looking as natural by day as it had in the 
previous months of tranquil trench warfare. Every 
hour that we kept the enemy ignorant of the strength 
of our concentration was an hour gained. The one 
thing he must not know was the number of divisions 
we were marshaling for our effort. The most deli¬ 
cate task of all was the taking over of the front line 
from the French. Not until the stage was all set with 
the accessories of heavy artilleries, the new depots and 
ammunition dumps, did the road near the front, 
cleared for their progress, throb under the blanket 
of night, with the scraping rhythm of the doughboys’ 
marching steps, infusing into the preparations the 
life of a myriad human pulse-beats in unison. Their 
faces so many white points in the darkness, each 
figure under its heavy equipment, seemed alike in 
2 01 



HILL 7 


its shadowy silhouette. In the mystery of night, their 
disciplined power, suggestive of the tiger creeping 
stealthily forward for the spring on its prey, was even 
more significant than by day. ... I wonder if it 
were possible that the Germans could not have been 
apprised that a concentration was in progress. Not 
only did pocket lamps flash like fireflies from the 
hands of those who used them thoughtlessly, but de¬ 
spite precautions, careless drivers turned on motor 
lights and some rolling kitchen was bound to let out 
a flare of sparks, while the locomotives, running in 
and out at rail heads, showed streams of flames from 
their stacks, and here and there, fires were unwit¬ 
tingly started. An aviator riding the night, as he sur¬ 
veyed the shadowy landscape, could not miss these 
manifestations of activity. If he shut off his engine, 
he might hear above the low thunder of transport, 
the roar of the tanks advancing into position, or the 
heavy caterpillar tractors drawing big guns. When 
the air was clear and the wind favorable, the increas¬ 
ing volume of sound directed toward the front must 
have been borne to sharp ears on the other side of 
No Man’s Land. All this I may mention again with¬ 
out reference to the observation of spies within our 
own lines.” 

So much for night marching. 

The experience of passing through the barbed 
wire entanglements is thus described: 

“ Where the guns had not done the work for them, 
the men must do it themselves. ... If they had 


2 02 



HILL 7 


torpedoes at the end of long sticks, they might thrust 
these into and explode the meshes. If the artillery 
made some break, they might keep up. What young 
soldiers can accomplish in this respect is past all com¬ 
prehension. At first, we wondered how they ever 
went through it at all, or how they had any flesh left 
on their leg bones after they had gone through — 
they relied mainly upon the hand wire-cutters, which 
have not been improved since Cuba and Africa. 
All the while the soldier was snipping the strands 
and bending them back, as he fell forward, he was 
too near the trench to have any protection from 
the barrage, while from the trench, he was a full-sized 
target at short range. War offers no more diabolical 
suspense than to the prostrate soldier in his patient 
groveling efforts, when machine gun fire is turned in 
his direction. He is in the position of a man lashed 
to a bull’s-eye, bullets sing as they cut strands of wire 
around him. He may be hit again and again before 
the inevitable final bullet brings the last ghastly sec¬ 
onds of his existence. The bones of men who were 
killed in this way, hung up in the wire, are all along 
the old trench line from Switzerland to Flanders. It 
seemed that work was good for the German soldiers 
and they were kept digging and building for four 
years, in perfecting the security of these intricate hu¬ 
man obstacles. And our soldiers after successfully 
making their way through these miles of RUSTED 
wire, if they passed the Hindenburg trench line, 
they found that this was only one system and that 
*03 



HILL 7 


there were three similar terrible systems beyond it to 
pass/’ 

History also says: “No such defense system has 
ever been recorded in any war history. Pershing’s 
army may have been at this time a training establish¬ 
ment — but as a fighting aggregation, it was beyond 
praise. It was a young army, but with the enthusi¬ 
asm, the courage, the strength of youth; and its spirit 
availed to surmount all handicaps and to supply 
Foch with just the additional power which made 
victory in 1918 first conceivable, then possible. As 
for the soldiers of General Pershing, there is only one 
description, ‘ they have been prodigious in courage 
and daring.’ ” {Babin.) 

What a strange and terrific thought — the 79th 
Division with its thousands of young men just from 
the training camps (George had not yet heard the 
sound of a German gun, so he wrote) marching into 
the battleground before Montfaucon, the most ter¬ 
ribly fortified area in all history, the very nature of 
the ground itself, with its hills and valleys, ravines 
and swamps, its bushes and undergrowth, its woods 
and all, as though planted for a battleground. And 
the Germans, hearing of the presence of the 79th 
from one soldier who had been taken prisoner, did 
not seem to dream of the presence of any other di¬ 
vision. This fresh division, just over, was probably 
there, they thought, for practice experience. On the 
morning of the 26th, when the 79th Division rushed 
forward toward the heights of Montfaucon, then, not 
204 



HILL 7 


till then, did the Germans know the truth, and even 
then they did not know the greater truth that two 
million more were soon to be in France, brave and 
splendid as these. 

As to the nature of the ground to be crossed: “ We 
shall see in the Meuse-Argonne a country far more 
savage, presenting infinitely greater obstacles to mili¬ 
tary operations, and not outside Flanders was there 
along the whole front, a more depressing stretch of 
shell-worked, devastated, flood-invaded territory 
than that which our American divisions passed 
through and over in September, a country destitute 
of all life, of all evidence of human residence, torn 
by four years of cannonading, presenting to the trav¬ 
eler long months after the war has passed by and 
ended in other fields, something of the horror of rot¬ 
ting fragments of human bodies protruding from the 
shallow graves, as seen along the front of every con¬ 
siderable struggle during the war.” 

Now, to examine that gigantic defense called the 
Hindenburg Line where the 79th Division with the 
others must now advance as they “ jump off ” on 
the morning of September 26 from the French 
trenches, General Pershing in the old Town Hall 
of Souilly directing all the movements along this 
seventy-two mile front. Actually, the Hindenburg 
line was neither a line nor a system of fortifications: 
it was a defense zone, varying in width from an aver¬ 
age of seven miles, making use of every hill, ravine, 
river, natural obstacle, but in the main deriving its 
205 



HILL 7 


strength from the successive fields of wire entangle¬ 
ments backed by trenches, block houses and concrete 
emplacements. Each point of cover was a machine- 
gun nest and every art of modern engineering or 
ancient and modern military method was employed 
to increase the obstacle. The theory of the Hinden- 
burg line was not that the enemy attack would be 
broken before it, but that the force of such an attack 
would be lost in the encounter with one or another 
of the series of obstacles which would be encountered 
and that the enemy, checked in the tangle, would be 
slaughtered by the concentrated fire from all sides 
before material progress had been made, or thrown 
back by a well-timed counter-attack. This seventy- 
two mile front over which the American forces were 
to march on the first day of the Argonne battle, was 
thus occupied for approximately the first seven miles 
by the Hindenburg zone of fortifications and it lay 
between the Meuse River and the Argonne Forest, 
half of the forest being within the German lines and 
the other half in the French line. 

Into this seven mile zone of fortifications, repre¬ 
senting four years of preparation by the Germans, 
the Fifth Army Corps of the American forces, con¬ 
taining the 91st, the 37th and the 79th Divisions, was 
now to enter, after settling in the French trenches, 
and we remember the words of the French officers as 
they passed them: “A pleasant morning to you, 
gentlemen.” But we might ask here, How far are 
our soldiers of these divisions to go? Where is their 
206 



HILL 7 


objective within this German zone, the Hindenburg 
Line? Later, we shall see. 

We have come now to the eve of the battle of the 
Argonne, called the “ greatest battle ” of our forces 
in France and once we put ourselves into the atmos¬ 
phere of this conflict, feeling the tenseness of the 
situation as our men wait there for the zero hour, 
we find it almost overpowering to attempt to imag¬ 
ine the state of mind they must have been suffering 
from just then. For a moment, let us go back to the 
war’s beginnings — What is it all about? Where will 
it end? What have we to do with it all? — questions 
like these rushed upon them surely and they knew 
that at that moment “ there was no discharge in the 
war,” as they counted their heartbeats down in those 
French trenches that morning, waiting for five- 
thirty, when they were to advance under a storm of 
steel toward their objectives in the German lines. 
Or were to be flying over the conflict in their planes 
where, under disadvantage, they might soon be 
crumpling up and falling like leaves, while the bal¬ 
loon men waiting to ascend were trembling with 
anxiety for fear their balloons might burst into flame 
high aloft. To consider only a few of the first line 
activities of the A. E. F. 

Some pages above, we were discussing the causes 
of the war, the events that actually led to the first 
firing. As apposite to that subject, we now quote the 
words of a great English statesman: “ The only test 
by which human beings can judge war responsibility 
507 



HILL 7 


is aggression: and the supreme proof of aggression is 
invasion. Capacity to invade a neighbor implies 
superior capacity to defend the native soil. The past 
has many instances of invasions for the purpose of 
forestalling a counter-invasion. Disputes as to the 
responsibility for bringing about conditions that led 
to various wars are endless. But mankind in the fu¬ 
ture will be wise to take as the paramount criterion 
of war guilt, the sending of the main armies of any 
state across the frontier line, and to declare that who¬ 
ever does this, puts himself in the wrong. The vio¬ 
lation of Luxembourg and Belgium by the German 
armies marching upon France will stare through the 
centuries from the pages of History.’' (Winston 
Churchill.) 

While we are stopping over the question of cause 
and guilt in the World War, there is still another 
picture that might be drawn. Germany declared 
war upon France August 3. On June 28, five weeks 
previously, the Archduke of Austria and his wife 
went into Bosnia for a friendly and official visit and 
while driving through the streets of Sarajevo, a stu¬ 
dent named Prinzip shot and killed them both. 
And that young student was the immediate cause of 
the explosion that led to the death of millions of 
men, the majority of whom were also students. We 
know that from America, the 1st Division was the 
first body of troops to go under fire in this war, but a 
band of students sailing to France in the spring of 
1917, on May 24, six weeks after war was declared, 
208 



HILL 7 


was the first American unit to go into the firing line. 
They were from Cornell University and the follow¬ 
ing dispatch from France corroborates this record 
authoritatively: 

Dated May 24 , 1917 , 
General Headquarters of the French Army 

The first American combatant corps went to the front 
today under Captain E. I. Tinkham of Cornell University. 

It was a proud moment when the first detachment of the 
American Field Service, consisting mainly of Cornell under¬ 
graduates, departed for the Aisne battle-field. They were 
armed with carbines, attired in khaki uniforms, and drove 
American five-ton motor cars. As they left, the Stars and 
Stripes, floating over the cantonment in a historic French 
forest, spread out in the breeze, and other contingents 
cheered them on their way. 

The war begun by a student in Bosnia was re¬ 
sisted by students of America, first by a unit from 
Cornell University. And, before the war ended, ten 
million had dropped their earthly studies forever. 

On April 6, 1917, the United States declared 
war upon Germany, and ten days later the United 
States Senate passed its seven billion dollar war loan 
bill! 

So, by an act that reduced the earth to poverty, 
and took millions of our youth, that student of 
Bosnia, named Prinzip, did in one fleeting moment 
stamp the world with unutterable and solemn woe. 
Therefore, as the tale of the battle is told, let the pic¬ 
ture of these young students of Cornell linger in our 
209 



HILL 7 


memory; they were the sort of men who set out to 
conquer the Germans. A goodly percentage of the 
A. E. F. were college students or college graduates 
and it was over them that the German guns were to 
burst forth in their fury in the Argonne battle. The 
carnage to follow, the physical, mental and nerve 
sufferings to be thought of now, are for such as these. 
And now as to their objectives: 

Though the 79th had never been under fire be¬ 
fore, though it had only training-camp experience, 
it was expected after taking the first line fortifica¬ 
tions, to cover more ground than any other division 
on that first day, to proceed along the valley of the 
Montfaucon road, passing over formidable ridges 
which were under the observation of woods on either 
flank capable of concealing any amount of enemy 
artillery. 

The objective of the 79th Division, the point they 
were to reach and march north of, was Montfaucon. 
The dominating height of the whole region is this 
mountain, rising one hundred feet higher than any 
other eminence between the Meuse and the Argonne 
on either the German or the French side of the old 
battle line. To safeguard this unrivaled point of ob¬ 
servation, the Germans had covered the five miles 
which intervened between it and their front line, 
with a multitude of defenses. But far to the north of 
it, extended still other defenses. The four great 
zones though so closely woven together as to seem 
practically one line, were first, the Hindenburg line, 
310 














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HILL 7 


then the Hagen, the Volker, and last, the Kriemhilde 
Stellung. The attack was set for the 26th and by the 
22nd the 79th Division was among those holding the 
line. Great caution was used in bringing in these 
divisions, in order not to make the enemy aware of 
the attack impending. On the night of September 
25, there were nine American divisions in line, wait¬ 
ing for the “ jump off ” at dawn next morning against 
the most formidable position on the Western front. 
For the most part, these troops had had little actual 
battle experience and to some, it was to be their first 
experience under fire. 

Behind these first line divisions were a few veteran 
divisions who could be counted on to give a good ac¬ 
count of themselves under any circumstances. On 
the left of the 4th Division was the 79th Division, 
which was in the line for the first time. Before it 
was Montfaucon which it was to capture. Behind 
these divisions were six other divisions. Those di¬ 
rectly back of the 79th were the 1st (Regular), the 
3rd (Regular), and the 32nd, consisting of Michigan 
and Wisconsin National Guards, who were veterans 
of all the battles in which the American troops had 
played a part. They formed a most dependable re¬ 
serve. Their staffs were experienced, their disci¬ 
pline was that of veterans, and their spirit and confi¬ 
dence in their officers would carry them through any 
obstacles. 

That only partially trained divisions were used to 
make the initial attacks was due to the fact that the 


211 



HILL 7 


veteran divisions could not be brought up in time 
from St. Mihiel for the opening action. 

The Meuse-Argonne offensive began at about 11 
p.m., when 3,928 guns of all calibers were fired in 
unison, an artillery preparation which tore to pieces 
the concrete and barbed wire of the Hindenburg 
line and in the succeeding six hours upheaved the 
earth until it was a shambles. Every German battery 
was smothered in this intense bombardment which 
prepared the way for the infantry who “ jumped off ” 
at five-thirty in the morning of September 26, 1918, 
in the most monstrous battle of the American forces 
in the World War. 

The 79th Division passed the first and second 
German lines by 1 p.m., only to be held up before 
the Bois de Cuisy. They fought their way through, 
with the aid of tanks, but not before 4 p.m., and it 
was 6 p.m. before they were at the foot of Mont- 
faucon. 

Someone has asked, how did the men go forward? 
Did they run? Did they sprint? Did they race? 
We know it was otherwise. From histories we learn 
that they walked, and very slowly. They were sup¬ 
posed not to be in groups huddled together, but 
separated, not forming a target for the enemy, and 
the march was a comparatively slow procedure. 

Their artillery was not yet up when the 313th In¬ 
fantry Regiment assaulted that impregnable moun¬ 
tain fortress — only to be hurled back by the Ger¬ 
man defenders. And all too soon after this, in the 


212 



HILL 7 


early morning hours of September 26, did the train 
of ambulances waiting on the side lines begin to 
wend their difficult way back of the fighting area. 

The assignment of such an ambitious objective to 
these three divisions, the 91st, the 37th, and the 79th, 
which constituted the Fifth Army Corps, required 
an abounding faith in their manhood, their initia¬ 
tive and training, upon the part of an audacious 
command. 

Their objective, as we have written, was the town 
of Montfaucon, whose whitish ruins on the distant 
hilltop pretty well commanded all the terrain of the 
Corps front. As to the 79th Division, it was expected 
after taking the first line fortifications to take more 
ground than any other division on the first day, as 
has also been written. 

While aviators were flying at a height of twelve 
thousand feet in the battle of the Somme, they were 
now flying, with splendid audacity, as low as a thou¬ 
sand feet, which enabled them to locate new build¬ 
ings, piles of material, and camouflaged positions: 
the minute changes in a photograph taken today in 
comparison with one of yesterday were sufficient evi¬ 
dence to a staff expert that some movement was in 
progress. 

While the public thinks of aviation in terms of 
combat, admires the exploits of aces in bringing 
down enemy planes, which they looked for in the 
communiques, the army was thinking of the value of 
the work of the observers, whose heroism in running 

* 13 



HILL 7 


the gauntlet of fire from air and earth in order to 
bring back information, might change the fate of 
battles. 

Although we are considering the work at this time 
of only the 79th Division, it is well to be reminded 
that the Meuse-Argonne is a very small part of the 
whole great offensive which Foch is directing on the 
entire Western front, and in that connection the 
work of the aviators is thrilling to read about, for on 
that morning 508 French and American airplanes 
took the air, so that not only artillery and infantry 
were going forward, and tanks, but the aviators were 
sweeping the sky of every enemy plane. Continuing 
ahead, they indicated, to the first of the large guns, 
the targets as they appeared, while some of them flew 
over and behind the enemy lines on reconnaissance 
and bombing missions. 

Behind the advancing infantry came the seventy- 
three tanks. The fall rains had turned No Man's 
Land into a quagmire. Through this the tanks 
churned and wallowed, with the accompanying bat¬ 
teries of artillery, both falling farther and farther 
back behind the infantry. During this first day, 
while the tanks and artillery drove on through that 
awful battle-scarred terrain, the infantry pressed on 
to its objectives without their aid. 

So, as history relates, the whole line went forward, 
except the section before Montfaucon. 

This hill, as we have said, had once been the Crown 
Prince's front line headquarters, but the Crown 
214 



HILL 7 


Prince was now very far away, for both Ludendorff 
and Hindenburg had, two weeks before, sent him 
word they could no longer protect him in his com¬ 
fortable abode there, and he had at once proceeded 
northward, out of danger. 

The dominating point in this region, Montfaucon, 
must be taken and taken at once, for on both sides of 
the 79th, the 37th and 4th Divisions were far ahead, 
and to leave it there unconquered meant ruin to 
those troops on either side. So, at 7 a.m. on Sep¬ 
tember 27, the 313th Infantry assaulted that im¬ 
pregnable mountain fortress, creeping up the sides 
of that steep hill, while the enemy artillery was 
pounding the top. Before noon, they had mopped 
up the entire hill and the town of Montfaucon and 
the hill was now an American observation post. 

The 313th being too exhausted after the heroic 
capture of the hill to continue the attack that night 
to Nantillois and the Bois de Bruge, it was arranged 
to have the 178th Brigade relieve them during the 
night and attack in the morning. So by the night of 
the second day the line had advanced five miles from 
the original “ jump off ” and there were but twenty 
miles to go to reach Sedan! 

And here is the first mention of the name Nantil¬ 
lois, which is to us so important a location of the war, 
since in his journeying from Souilly, on, we believe, 
the 27th day of September, after passing north from 
Geddeon, the base of the Hospital Unit to which his 
company was attached, our brother arrived at Com- 
2*5 



HILL 7 


pany B, 4th Infantry, 3rd Division, near this town of 
Nantillois. 

Some staff expert might tell us just when the first 
broken bodies of the soldiers of the 79th Division or 
other divisions of that Fifth Army Corps would be 
appearing down the Montfaucon road, as they were 
carried on stretchers to the base hospital at Geddeon. 
They had gone over the top at 5:30 a.m. on Sep¬ 
tember 26 and it is probably true that these sad har¬ 
bingers of war were very soon after that to be seen 
slowly making their way back. It is uncertain, but 
surely near the truth to say that all through that day 
from early morning, they were being brought from 
the battle area, and as our George was preparing his 
equipment for his journey back to First Army Head¬ 
quarters at Souilly, he talked with these wounded 
men and knew that his Division, the 79th, was in 
trouble. 

He reported at the Headquarters of the Fifth 
Army Corps in Souilly where General Summerall 
was in charge and we give the messages concerning 
this as we received them long after the Armistice: 

Nogent en Bass, Jan. 8, 1919. S. S. Number 111. Reference 
your C R O 499 E. Second Lieutenant George E. Shipley 
left these headquarters September twenty-fifth enroute to 
Headquarters, First Army, Souilly. No further record. 

Altemose. 

Nogent, Jan. 14, 1919. Number O A. Reference your CRO 
887, E. Second Lieutenant George E. Shipley QMC passed 
through these headquarters First Army under Par One Sec¬ 
tion four GO one three one GHQ nineteen eighteen. He 
216 



HILL 7 


was furnished his orders to proceed to First Army, advised 
those headquarters were at Souilly and left these head¬ 
quarters. No further knowledge of him. 

Summerall. 

During the night of September 27, the 79th Divi¬ 
sion fought on, and by the evening of September 
58 they had not advanced farther than the Nantil- 
lois-Cunel road. Behind the 79th Division, during 
these three days of horrible fighting, Lieutenant 
Shipley was making his way toward the front. Al¬ 
most as soon as he left Geddeon, he was “ under fire.” 

We have learned many new phrases coined during 
the World War. There was the “ zero hour,” there 
was the “ jumping off place,” there was “ over the 
top,” and then there was that expression “ under 
fire.” It alone would require a volume, if one were 
to tell all that led up to this expression “ under fire ” 
or “ under the munitions.” To try to tell of the 
work of preparing munitions for a war would be a 
difficult task indeed. Take, for instance, England, 
where there were munitions sufficient for a year or 
perhaps less. How did they get enough to carry on 
the four long years? Without munitions, the word 
would have been “ surrender.” 

In that country, it so happened that a master-hand, 
that of Lloyd George, was appointed to the Ministry 
of Munitions. Soon after his appointment, realizing 
that he knew little of the work before him, his first 
thought was to confer with the French. How much 
would they need? What kind of weapons would be 
517 



HILL 7 


most needed? What was a machine gun? And so on. 
The conference was arranged for Boulogne. The 
French sent some of the best and most experienced 
men to this conference and it lasted several days. 
The meeting was continued night and day, and one 
morning Lloyd George, hearing through the window 
of the room where they were having this important 
conference, the distant sound of hymns being sung in 
nearby churches, and later seeing the congregation 
pouring out of these two churches, carrying prayer 
and hymn books in their hands, realized that it was 
the Sabbath Day, that these people were meeting to 
worship God, as he sat at the table trying to find out 
what were the best weapons to destroy material and 
what weapons were best to destroy men. What must 
have been his sensations! Studying the best method 
of killing men for whom the Prince of Peace had 
died! 

How few of us know what the struggle was in Eng¬ 
land to prepare and provide the necessary munitions 
for that awful war. It resulted really in the whole 
charming island becoming a factory for all kinds of 
munitions, England as a nation concentrating all its 
strength and skill on the factory. No one could start 
a new business or enlarge the old one except for war 
purposes. 

And it was women who were being employed in 
making munitions and in filling shells with explo¬ 
sives. The actual filling of the shells was a simple 
process. Such labor difficulties as arose were associ- 
218 



HILL 7 


ated with the danger of the work, for example, with 
the scare of T. N. T. poisoning. Despite this danger, 
there was no labor shortage. In a factory at Hayes, 
England, girls and women were employed in the 
very dangerous task of filling gaines. A gaine is a 
tube filled with explosive attached under the nose 
cap of a high explosive shell and sticking down into 
T. N. T. filling. 

Here is a picture of what may have occurred often 
during the war. There was an explosion in one of the 
huts in this factory. Several women had been killed, 
and an investigator sent to the site of the explosion 
met the woman in charge of this particular hut. She 
was white-faced from the excitement, but said: “ I 
am not going to run away, especially when I think 
of those poor boys in France who are facing more 
dangers than we are.” She had already calmed the 
survivors and they were carrying on again. This is 
what “ under fire ” means. 

It is said that in 1916 there were one and a half 
million women in England making munitions and 
we learn that many of them, to keep up their courage, 
sang as they bravely carried on with their dangerous 
duties. 

But to return to our brother who is now on his 
way toward the front. Let us next look at an extract 
from a letter, written many years afterwards by the 
captain of this company of the 3rd Division, who like¬ 
wise made his way through this sector of the war and 
at just about the same time. As his experience was 
519 



HILL 7 


similar to George’s, it will tell us what he too was 
enduring those days when the 3rd Division took over 
the line of the 79th, while that division retreated or 
returned to the base for reorganization. Captain 
Gillette had been an aide-de-camp to Colonel Ger- 
hardt, but hearing that his old company was now in 
the thick of the battle, asked to be transferred to 
them at the front and this extract from his letter de¬ 
scribes his journey from Souilly to or through Mont- 
faucon, where his company was entrenched in their 
dugouts, for there were no trenches at this point: the 
men dug themselves in. He very evidently joined 
them when the 3rd Division had gone out to take the 
place of the 79th. 

Captain Gillette writes: “ At Vitry-le-Francois, I 
got orders to proceed to the 3rd Division at Mont- 
faucon by way of the rail heads at Souilly. From 
Souilly, I caught rides on trucks and in any kind of 
a vehicle headed in my direction. The roads in this 
territory were very congested with trucks moving 
supplies, artillery moving behind the lines and in¬ 
fantry moving on the sides of the roads. Engineer 
regiments were working to keep the roads in condi¬ 
tion for traffic, as they had been torn up by shells and 
trucks. I met a schoolmate in a little town just south 
of Avacourt, and stayed with him the night of Oc¬ 
tober the first, in some old French billets. I remem¬ 
ber sleeping in a box with chicken wire nailed across 
the bottom and filled with hay. On the 2nd, I caught 
a ride on a White reconnaissance truck and rode to 


220 



HILL 7 


Avacourt which was as far as the truck could go, the 
roads were very bad and only artillery and motor¬ 
cycle messengers went further. From Avacourt to 
Montfaucon I walked, and I will never forget the 
first time I heard a big gun close to it. I had walked 
through a battery of 155 millimeter guns without 
seeing them, they were so thoroughly camouflaged 
and just as I was about 200 feet in front of them, four 
were let loose at once. The concussion nearly 
knocked me down. Montfaucon stood on a hill 
which was the highest point in that vicinity and had 
been the headquarters of the German Crown Prince 
for some time. When I got there, the entire town 
was in ruins with hardly any of the side walls of the 
houses standing. As I got to the cross roads in the 
center of the mess, a shell struck just a few feet ahead 
of me. It was at this time that I saw the motorcycle 
with the side car standing on the corner which I men¬ 
tioned to you. My regiment headquarters were 
just a short distance north of Montfaucon, and I re¬ 
member sleeping in an old cellar on the night of 
the 2nd, with Jack Sproul, son of the Governor of 
Pennsylvania. The next day, the line continued its 
advance and we were not relieved until Novem¬ 
ber. . . .” 

In this letter, which, though written in 1932, de¬ 
scribes so vividly the events of those days of the 3rd 
Division in the Argonne, we see very plainly how our 
brother must have made his way to these same 
trenches, and no doubt he arrived a day or two be- 


221 



HILL 7 


fore as we know he was there for the attack on the 4th. 

As these two soldiers proceeded toward that com¬ 
pany of the 3rd Division with which they were soon 
to be in the fighting, Lieutenant Shipley seems to 
have been ahead of Captain Gillette, but not far, 
since his motorcycle, which Captain Gillette had 
seen at Montfaucon, would in no time have been but 
a bundle of broken steel, for the firing here at this 
time was terrific. This fact shows that they could 
not have been very far apart, though the Captain 
writes of sleeping on October 2 with young Mr. 
Sproul beyond Montfaucon. They were, of course, 
both here “ under fire ” and both were wearing the 
gas masks in alert position. 

In the spring of 1934, the following appeared in 
the British Weekly, concerning gas masks: 

PROTECTION AGAINST MODERN WARFARE 

In Denmark the peaceful citizens have been provided with 
gas-masks and are being instructed in the use of them, in 
view of that final departure from all decency which is to 
mark the next war! Might it not assist us in our war against 
war, if the Government, for military reasons, were to compel 
us all to go about for one day each week with those huge 
goggles over our eyes and that thick piece of piping hanging 
from our nose and mouth, giving to the wearer such an im¬ 
mediate look of imbecility! We are always talking about 
“ How to bring home to people the sense of the horrors of 
war." Here surely would be a swiftly-acting measure! Why 
should there not be an appointed day on which we had all 
of us to assume and, for a set number of hours, wear gas¬ 
masks? Once a day, all Members of Parliament, Cabinet 


222 



HILL 7 


Ministers, Lords and Commons should be compelled to 
wear this badge — a badge which would signify all sorts of 
things to ourselves and to one another; every one of those 
things signified being of priceless value to the human race. 
And this is no mere foolishness. If in any quarter there is 
a reasonable fear that the civil population may be subjected 
to a chemical attack against which bravery or flight effects 
nothing, then those who have this misgiving are criminally 
involved if they do not immediately provide us with appa¬ 
ratus and instruct us in the use of it, such as could give us 
all at least a dog’s chance. 

The battle of the Meuse-Argonne was divided into 
three phases. In Thomas’ history, General Pershing 
describes the division thus: " Covering a period of 
forty-seven days, on a front of seventy-two miles, 
this one great American offensive, in which three- 
quarters of a million Allied troops were engaged, 
and in which 120,000 Americans became casualties, 
cannot be treated as a whole, but must be studied in 
the three natural phases which developed. The first 
phase covers the first eight days of the battle, Sep¬ 
tember 26 until October 3, between the Meuse River 
and the Argonne forest. The second phase covers 
the fighting within the same limits between October 
4 and October 31.” 

Here is Mr. Palmer’s description of the 79th as 
they went “over the top ’’ on September 26, never 
having been under fire before: “ They were given 
the farthest objective. They were not only to take 
Montfaucon on the first day, but to pass on down the 
slope beyond to the very foot of the heights of the 
223 



HILL 7 


whaleback. One might think these inexperienced 
soldiers had said — Is that all you expect of us; don’t 
you think we can do it in the forenoon; take the 
whaleback in the afternoon, so that we can get on to 
Lille-Metz railway tomorrow? 

44 From Montfaucon, the Germans could see the 
wave of khaki figures. It was a sight to thrill any 
veteran. They were pantherously lean, trained 
down to elastic sinews and supple muscles. In every 
eye there was a direct and keen glance, quick in re¬ 
sponse to any order. Looking at these thousands of 
athletes with the clean-cut and intelligent faces, one 
was not surprised that the army command thought 
that to such men nothing was impossible. Checked 
by machine gun fire, forced to take cover in shell 
craters, the eastern coast men found that whenever 
they showed themselves, the air cracked and sang 
with bullets. They had to advance, however, uphill 
over very treacherous ground. They took Cuisy 
Wood, but valuable time had been lost. Driving to 
pass over the crest of Hill 294 in front of Mont¬ 
faucon, they were blown back by blasts from machine 
guns. By 11 a.m. on the 27th, they had men in 
Montfaucon. On the 28th, it was still advancing and 
stormed the ridge beyond Hill 268, taking Nantillois 
by noon, but the thinning lines with the machine 
guns pounding upon them withdrew at last to their 
first position. The 79th was expended.” 

We seem to have followed our brother through 
the first phase of the Meuse-Argonne, as General 
224 



HILL 7 


Pershing describes it, from September 27 when he 
left Geddeon to October 3 after leaving his motor¬ 
cycle on Montfaucon. As he nears Company B, 4th 
Infantry, 3rd Division, his own Division, the 79th, 
has started toward the rear. We must now leave him 
in our story, though the battle itself will occupy us 
until we enter Sedan with the 1st Division on No¬ 
vember 8. 

To return to September 2 9, the situation on the 
attacking front of the First American Army was 
greatly altered. The impetus of the swift advance of 
the first two days had been lost. The German main 
line of resistance had been reached. All attempts to 
advance on the right of the battle line had met with 
failure. On the extreme left of the line a slight gain 
had been made, whereas, in the center, three divi¬ 
sions, the 35th (Missouri and Kansas National 
Guards, under General Traub), the 37th (Ohio 
National Guard under General Farnsworth), and 
the 79th “ Liberty ” (Pennsylvania National Guard, 
under General Kuhn), had suffered a severe setback. 
Under the galling fire from the Germans, reinforced 
in their line of resistance, the forward units of these 
three divisions had retreated. Some sort of a line of 
battle was formed, but the morale of these troops was 
too badly shattered to permit of reorganization in 
the field. Accordingly orders were issued for the 
1st (Regular), 3rd (Regular) and the 32nd (Michi¬ 
gan and Wisconsin National Guards) Divisions — 
then in reserve — to move up immediately and take 
225 



HILL 7 


the place of these three divisions in the line. The 
center of German resistance between the Meuse and 
the Argonne had now been definitely located, and 
to these three fresh, veteran divisions was entrusted 
the mission of breaking through. 

The following letter from Captain George E. 
Abrams of the 4th Infantry, 3rd Division, was re¬ 
ceived several years after the Armistice, but it de¬ 
scribes the few days in which we are interested now, 
as our soldiers near Company B: “ The 4th Infantry, 
3rd Division, relieved a regiment of the 79th Divi¬ 
sion near Nantillois on October 1st, in daylight and 
under German barrage, the First Battalion consisting 
of companies A, B, C and D in the front line. A and 
B companies were the front line of the battalion with 
C and D following them. After the relief above 
mentioned, we remained in position until 5 a.m. 
October 4 when we were ordered forward under 
heavy German artillery and machine gun fire. The 
battalion was so depleted that it was unable to ad¬ 
vance more than two miles. B, C and D companies 
lost all of their officers, either killed or wounded dur¬ 
ing this advance, and the battalion lost two-thirds of 
its enlisted men. During the night of October 4 the 
first battalion was relieved in the front line by the 
second battalion, the first battalion going to the re¬ 
serve until the night of October 12 when it was or¬ 
dered into the line to relieve an entire division on 
our right which was badly shattered.” 

We see that during the day of September 30 the 
226 



HILL 7 


three veteran divisions, the ist, 3rd and 33nd, which 
had been held back of the original jump-off line, out 
of shellfire, in case of such emergency, were hurry¬ 
ing at top speed toward the front to relieve the three 
divisions which had fallen back, including the 79th. 

So the first phase of the Meuse-Argonne was 
passed. The next battle was to occur on October 4. 
The Americans were now before the Kriemhilde, 
the last of the formidable defensive works of the 
Germans. During the first two days they had swept 
over the German defenses with an ardor character¬ 
istic of new troops. The attack came as a surprise 
to the Germans, and at this time dash and enthusiasm 
were of more value than skill and experience would 
have been. 

As written above, of all of the Meuse-Argonne 
fighting, the second phase was the most exacting and 
the fighting there between October 4 and 14 was the 
hardest which the American Army encountered in 
this war. The front line of the First American Army 
on the night of October 3 ran from the Meuse just 
south of Brieulles, which the Germans held and had 
heavily fortified, southwest along the Brieulles-Nan- 
tillois road to Nantillois which lay in the American 
lines. 

The troops of those divisions which were to make 
the attack suffered heavy casualties during the three 
days of waiting, between October 1 and 4, from the 
constant and well-directed batteries. The rear areas 
were swept with high explosive and gas and every 
227 



HILL 7 


indication pointed to the fact that the Germans were 
ready for the attack to be resumed. 

Over this front of seventy-two miles of the Meuse- 
Argonne battle which General Pershing was com¬ 
manding, the divisions taking part from left to right 
were in this order: 4th, 80th, 3rd, 32nd, 1st, 28th, 
77th. For seven days the attack was pushed with the 
greatest heroism by those assaulting troops and each 
day showed a small but considerable gain and the 
furious German counter-attacks never made the 
slightest impression on that ever-advancing line of 
veteran divisions who, with the greatest skill and 
heroism, took bit after bit of the German defensive 
system until the Kriemhilde line was pierced. 

The 3rd Division, attacking from the Nantillois- 
Cierges road, immediately met intense resistance. 
They crossed the open and were held up by that part 
of the Bois des Ogons which lies west of the Nantil- 
lois-Cunel road. Here the 7th and 4th Infantries 
were stopped by heavy German machine-gun fire 
from the woods. It is said that up on the hills in the 
sharp chill of October the men were half frozen. 
The 3rd Division attacked in conjunction with the 
80th and by the end of the day had seized that part 
of the Bois des Ogons which lay on their front. A 
sergeant and twenty men of the 4th Infantry pene¬ 
trated the Bois des Cunel, but as the machine-gun 
fire was so intense that moving forward more men 
was impossible, this gallant party had to be with¬ 
drawn. By October 5, the lines had gone in advance 
228 



HILL 7 


five miles and Sedan was less than fifteen miles away. 

Madeleine Farm was the objective of the 3rd Di¬ 
vision on this day. For two hours that afternoon, a 
regiment of 6-inch rifles played on this group of 
small buildings; at 2 p.m. the 80th and the 3rd Di¬ 
visions attacked, but wave after wave of their troops 
withered in that galling machine-gun and artillery 
fire, and the attack was repulsed. 

On October 8 all was quiet and we read that the 
4th Division on the right remained in place. The 
80th and 3rd Divisions contracted their sectors more 
effectively, to cover with their thinner ranks the 
wooded area around Madeleine Farm. 

On October 9, every division on the front from 
Ornes to the Argonne attacked. By evening, the line 
had swung well forward and the Kriemhilde line was 
pierced at several points. 

The 4th Division did not attack in the morning, 
as it was still over a mile in advance of the line held 
by the 80th, 3rd and 32nd Divisions, while on the 
left the 1st Division was also about a mile ahead of 
these three divisions. Accordingly on the morning 
of the 9th, the 80th, 3rd and 32 nd Divisions attacked 
resolutely to their front, and in the face of bitter re¬ 
sistance took Madeleine Farm, the Bois de Cunel, and 
advanced the line to the outskirts of Romagne, 
Cunel, and the Cunel-Brieulles road. In the after¬ 
noon the 4th Division attempted to advance with the 
80th Division but found the woods soaked with gas, 
and the attack was abandoned. 



HILL 7 


The 3rd Division attempted to continue on the 
10th and gained a little ground. On the 11th the 
4th Division, on the left bank of the Meuse, pushed 
down in the face of strong opposition. For a while 
the 3rd and 4th Divisions had ended their marvelous 
work in the Meuse-Argonne, though there were still 
rows upon rows of hills to be taken. 

The 1st Division attacked again on this day. Ad¬ 
vancing in succession from left to right every half 
hour, the 1st Division, although weakened to a mere 
skeleton, smashed through the final line of hills in 
face of a terrific fire and open country lay before it. 

The following report showing how our soldiers 
were regarded by the enemy is given with great pleas¬ 
ure and is signed by General Summerall of the 1st 
Division: 


G-s Headquarters 1st Division 

American E.F., October 10, 1918. 

Today a captured Colonel of the German Army arrived 
at our Division cage. He was cold, hungry, and broken in 
spirit. After four years of severe fighting and constant serv¬ 
ice in his army, he was taken prisoner by the troops of the 
victorious 1st Division. The following is the substance of 
his remarks: 

“ Yesterday I received orders to hold the ground at all 
costs. The American barrage advanced toward my position 
and the work of your artillery was marvelous. The barrage 
was so dense that it was impossible for us to move out of 
our dugouts. Following this barrage closely were the troops 
of the 1st Division. I saw them forge ahead and I knew that 
all was lost. All night I remained in my dugout, hoping 

230 



HILL 7 


vainly that something would happen that would permit me 
to rejoin my army. This morning your troops found me 
and I am here, after four years, a prisoner. 

“ Yesterday I knew that the ist Division was opposite us, 
and I knew that we would have to put up the hardest fight 
of the war. The ist Division is wonderful, and the German 
Army knows it. We did not believe that within five years 
the Americans could develop a division such as the ist Di¬ 
vision. The work of its infantry and artillery is worthy of 
the best armies in the world.” 

The above tribute to the ist Division comes from one of 
Germany’s seasoned field officers. It is with great pleasure 
that we learn that even our enemies recognize the courage, 
valor, and efficiency of our troops. The work done by the 
ist Division during those few days will go down in history 
as one of those memorable events which will live in the 
hearts of the American people for generations to come. 

Every member of this command well deserves the enthusi¬ 
astic congratulations from, and the high respect in which 
it is held by, our comrades in arms and by the entire Ameri¬ 
can nation. 

The above will be published to every member of this 
command. 

By command of Major-General Summerall: 

Thos. R. Gowenlock, 
Captain, Infantry, U.S.A., 
A. C. of S. G-2. 

Again referring to our map, which is a narrow 
strip extending from Langres to Sedan, our brother, 
we know, after landing at Brest, had been in Paris, 
Versailles, and a few other interesting places before 
he had gone on to Langres. From Langres his di¬ 
vision marched to Bar-le-duc, about fifteen miles dis- 

23 1 




23 * 



















LANGRES, from which Lieutenant Shipley started 
for the North, the great training station of the 
A.E.F. in France. 

BAR-LE-DUC, about 50 miles north of Langres. 
Here Lieutenant Shipley wrote his last letters. 

SOUILLY, where General Pershing and General 
Summerall directed the battle of the Meuse- 
Argonne. 

GEDDEON, where the Hospital unit of the 79th 
Division was located. 

MONTFAUCON, the highest point in the Meuse- 
Argonne, location of the front line headquarters 
of the German Crown Prince during the war. 

NANTILLOIS, the village near where Lieutenant 
Shipley was killed. 

ROMAGNE, where the great American cemetery is 
located. 

SEDAN, in France, where the Armistice was signed. 

VARENNES, where King Louis XIV was hiding 
when Lafayette’s troops discovered him. 

DOMREMY, the birthplace of Joan of Arc. 

VERDUN, where the five months’ battle was fought. 

METZ, the great German fortress. 

VAUX, one of Verdun’s great forts. 

ST. MIHIEL, where the Americans drove out the 
Germans in 1918. 

TOUL, a sector taken over by the U. S. troops. 


*33 


HILL 7 


tant. From there they marched on to Souilly, an¬ 
other fifteen miles distant, and from Souilly to Mont- 
faucon is another fifteen miles. From Montfaucon 
to Nantillois is two miles and from Nantillois to 
Sedan is about fifteen miles more. This narrow strip 
of map shows where our brother served in the war 
and all is very easily traced. 

As written before, we are only considering the 
work of the 79th, 3rd and 1st Divisions. From 
Thomas’ history, we learn that at this point, the 29th 
Division was relieved by the 79th Division. 

The capture of Romagne on October 14 at 4 p.m. 
was accomplished by the 5th Division. Romagne 
is the location of the great American cemetery. 

On October 14, the 32nd Division completed the 
capture of Romagne. In this attack the casualties 
were very heavy and there were many men who got 
lost or mixed with other units. The 3rd Division 
advanced its line during the day and by evening of 
that day was established in Bois de la Pultiere. 

On October 19, the 3rd Division extended its 
sector further to the right and on the 20th, the 3rd 
and 5th Divisions were ordered to attack again and 
take the Bois de Clairs Chenes. The 3rd Division 
was successful, and after bitter fighting in this region 
practically cleared the wood of the enemy. This 
attack was ordered to be repeated on the 21 st. The 
3rd Division continued its advance and captured 
Hill 299, swept down the slopes and established its 
line on the Andon Creek. Patrols from the 3rd Di- 

234 



HILL 7 


vision on October 23 found that the town of Bri- 
eulles had been evacuated by the enemy and the 
town was taken without incident. 

The following, written by General Pershing, por¬ 
trays in brief the courage of our troops through that 
worst part of the Meuse-Argonne battle: “ We made 
steady headway in the almost impenetrable and 
strongly held Argonne forest. ... Our aircraft was 
increasing in skill and number and forcing the issue 
and our infantry and artillery were improving rap¬ 
idly with each new experience. The replacements 
fresh from home were put into exhausted divisions 
with little time for training, but they had the ad¬ 
vantage of serving beside men who knew their busi¬ 
ness and who had almost become veterans over night. 
... I had every confidence in our aggressive tactics 
and the courage of our troops.” 

On October 4, the attack was renewed all along 
our front. The 3rd Corps, tilting to the left, fol¬ 
lowed the Brieulles-Cunel road; our 5th Corps took 
Gesnes, while the 1st Corps advanced for over two 
miles along the irregular valley of the Aire River 
and into the wooded hills of the Argonne that bor¬ 
dered the river, territory which the Germans had 
fortified with great skill, and with every conceivable 
weapon of defense. This sort of fighting continued 
against an enemy striving to hold every foot of 
ground and challenging our troops with very strong 
counter-attacks at every point. On the 7th, the 1st 
Corps captured Chatel-Chenery and continued along 
235 



HILL 7 


the river to Corney. On the east of the Meuse sector 
one of the two divisions co-operating with the French 
captured Consenvoye and the Haumont Woods. On 
the gth, the 5th Corps, in its progress up the Aire, 
took Fleville, and the 3rd Corps, fighting continu¬ 
ously against terrific odds, was working its way 
through Brieulles and Cunel. On the 10th we had 
cleared the Argonne forest of the enemy! 

We have finished the work of the 79th Division 
in October, 1918, but it is not possible to proceed to 
the end of our story without mentioning the brave 
service of this Division at the end of the conflict 
northeast of the Meuse in November, when it was 
given the very great honor of storming Hill 378, the 
highest of all the eminences taken in the battle. It 
was wicked, uphill work all the way. They had to 
struggle up the steep, wooded slopes of the Etraye 
ridges and then struggle down one side and up the 
other of the deadly Vaux de Mille Maise and other 
ravines before they were in sight of their objectives. 
Hill 378 had been a favorite height of the Germans, 
since it gave them a far flung view. This hill was a 
bald and gently rounded ridge, facing the bare, steep 
slope which the 79th had to ascend, and very favor¬ 
able for machine gun distance in front. Piles of 
cartridge cases which had been emptied into our 
waves are silent witnesses of the fire the soldiers of 
the 79th endured, their khaki figures exposed on the 
sky line, pitilessly distinct silhouettes at close range. 
The men of the 79th kept on until they had worked 
236 



HILL 7 


their way through the woods and had overrun the 
crest. There in their triumph, as they looked afar 
over the hills and across the Meuse, they might see 
the very heights of the whaleback which had been 
their goal when they charged down the valley of the 
Meuse on September 56 at Montfaucon. The 79th 
had now gone as far as it wanted to go in following 
the Meuse north and the 5th Division came in to 
take its place. 

In returning to the work of the 3rd Division, we 
advance to the third phase of the Meuse-Argonne, 
which took from November 3 to November 11, 1918. 
On October 26, the 5th Division, which had spent 
five days out of line, was brought up to relieve the 
3rd Division on the general line of the Andon Creek 
from the Meuse to Aincreville. But how can we 
close this service of the 3rd Division without refer¬ 
ring to some of their extraordinary work in the first 
months of their experience in France. They landed 
in May, 1918, and were called the Marne Division, 
having taken part in the second battle of the Marne. 
Of their part in this battle General Pershing says: 

The 3rd Division was holding the bank of the Marne from 
the bend east of the mouth of the Surmelin to the west of 
Mezy, opposite Chateau-Thierry, where a large force of 
German infantry sought to force a passage under support 
of powerful artillery concentrations and under cover of 
smoke screens. A single regiment of the 3rd wrote one of 
the most brilliant pages in our military annals on this oc¬ 
casion. It prevented the crossing at certain points on its 
front, while on either flank the Germans, who had gained a 

*37 



HILL 7 


footing, pressed forward. Our men, firing in three direc¬ 
tions, met the German attacks with counter-attacks at criti¬ 
cal points, which succeeded in throwing two German divi¬ 
sions into complete confusion, capturing 600 prisoners. 

On November 1 there were 1,971,000 American 
troops in France and in the Meuse-Argonne the 
German resistance was everywhere broken. The 
American troops progressed rapidly in the direc¬ 
tion of Sedan. 

On November 5, President Wilson notified Ger¬ 
many that Marshal Foch had been authorized by the 
United States and the Allies to communicate the 
terms of the armistice. 

On November 8, the 26th, 79th and the 32nd Di¬ 
visions extended the attack of the 5th Division and 
began pushing the Germans east of the heights of 
the Meuse; Marshal Foch received the German ar¬ 
mistice delegates. 

On November 9, Emperor William II and Crown 
Prince Frederick William of Germany abdicated 
and fled to Holland; revolution broke out in Ger¬ 
many. 

On November 10, another great offensive toward 
Metz began and on the same date the French troops 
entered Sedan. The 1st and 42nd Divisions having 
reached the Meuse opposite Sedan on November 6, 
when the American patrols entered the city, broke 
the chief railroad connection between Metz and the 
German armies in northern France. 

General Summerall went forward to the front line 
238 



HILL 7 


and finding elements of the French Division and the 
42 nd American Division along the line occupied by 
the left of the 1st Division ordered the 1st Division 
to confine its operations to the area between the 
right of the 42nd Division and the Meuse. Shortly 
afterwards, orders were received from the Army to 
withdraw the 1st Division and its line was transferred 
to the 42nd Division. The advanced elements of 
the 1st Division were just approaching Sedan when 
the halt came. Some of the officers of the 1st Divi¬ 
sion were, however, already in Sedan. The letter 
of one of these officers which appears later in this 
chapter, with its detailed description of the entering 
of the Americans into Sedan, is no doubt one of the 
most important letters, in a historical sense, extant 
from the A.E.F. part of the World War. 

And so the 3rd Division, with the marvelous 1st 
and 2nd Divisions, had established an enviable rec¬ 
ord for the American Army. The stories written by 
Mr. Thomas about the 3rd Division’s service on the 
Marne with the 4th Infantry, of which George E. 
Abrams was captain, make some of the most interest¬ 
ing pages of his history. Its service was certainly 
outstanding in gaining the victory for the line 
through those days. After this Marne offensive, 
scarcely an officer was left to take charge of the thin¬ 
ning ranks. On their arrival in France, they had 
been concentrated at once near Chaumont. In the 
Chateau-Thierry battle, the 3rd Division was al¬ 
ready fighting, and their service in this battle is, ac- 

*39 



HILL 7 


cording to Mr. Thomas, thus described by the 
French: “ The episode of Chateau-Thierry will re¬ 
main one of the most remarkable deeds of the war. 
It is a pleasure for us all to know our valiant allies 
have shared with us there.” It was on the night of 
June 6 that the 3rd Division captured Hill 204 which 
secured Chateau-Thierry to the Allies. 

After the Marne offensive had been completed the 
3rd Division proceeded to the St. Mihiel salient, 
where the offensive described above began on Sep¬ 
tember 12, 1918. 

Referring again to our map showing the narrow 
strip from Langres in south-central France, north 
to Sedan, we see that we are within twenty miles of 
the city of Sedan. 

The 1st Division was the first of the American 
forces to reach Sedan, and consequently it will be 
interesting to follow briefly their fortunes as they 
proceeded to that spot where the armistice was 
signed on November 11, 1918. We know that in the 
A.E.F., the first person to die was a Miss Helen 
Burnet Wood, who was killed on shipboard as she 
was crossing to France for Red Cross work, and we 
know that the first to go under fire were the under¬ 
graduates from Cornell University. 

We cannot think of the service of this great divi¬ 
sion without exaltation and enthusiasm. We know 
that when Field Marshal Haig wired to London that 
his men were fighting with their backs to the wall, 
our 1st Division was with them, fighting with their 
240 



HILL 7 


backs to the wall. The ist Division has the fol¬ 
lowing battles to its credit: Sommerville sector in 
November, 1917; Toul sector in March, 1918; 
Cantigny in April, May, June and July, 1918; Mont- 
didier-Noyon defensive in June, 1918; Aisne-Marne 
offensive in July, 1918; Sazerais sector in August, 
1918; St. Mihiel sector in September, 1918; Meuse- 
Argonne in September and October, 1918; the forced 
march on Sedan in November, 1918; Army of Oc¬ 
cupation. 

The 1st Division insignia is a crimson figure “ 1 ” 
on a khaki background and is appropriate in that 
this division was the first in France, the first in a 
sector, the first to fire a shot at the Germans, the 
first to attack, the first to capture prisoners, the first 
to inflict and to suffer casualties, the first to be cited 
singly in general orders, and first in the number of 
division corps and army commanders and general 
staff officers produced from its personnel. 

One entertains an earnest feeling of apology to¬ 
ward our army in mentioning so briefly the services 
of other divisions. My own reading, for instance, of 
the page in history concerning the 28th Division 
alone, as its companies marched in with the French, 
finds it one of the most overwhelming in all war 
records. Their bravery stirs one’s emotions almost 
beyond control. I have written something of the 
history of the 79th and the 3rd because Lieutenant 
Shipley served with them, but find it difficult to pass 
without mention certain of the other divisions, con- 
241 



HILL 7 


cerning which I shall now attempt some brief record, 
making use of descriptive phrases from Mr. Thomas’ 
History of the A.E.F. This page or so of summary 
may help us to visualize the total work of our men 
in France. 

What a story is that of the Marine Brigade at Bel- 
leau Wood and the 2nd Division at Meaux, that 
suburb close to Paris where they established a “re¬ 
markable record for bravery and courage and reck¬ 
less gallantry in action and the 33rd with the Aus¬ 
tralians at Hamel on July 4, 1918, lying there under 
fierce fire, then, with the 80th, rushing forward to a 
brilliant success, and the 80th later marching four¬ 
teen days through rolling open space and losing in 
twenty-four miles 5400 men; and the 4th Division 
capturing 15,000 rounds of German ammunition at 
Brieulles, worth, it was said, more than a million 
dollars; the 90th Division was called one of the best, 
its officers “ skillful, daring and efficient ”; the 42 nd 
Division was spoken of by the Germans as a first class 
attacking division of the Americans, with a record of 
successful victories; the 78th Division, never having 
been under fire before, held a five mile front for 
seventeen days and, with a “ record that will never 
grow dim,” suffered a total of over five thousand 
casualties; the service of the wonderful 89th in the 
Meuse was fully as important as that of the 2nd Di¬ 
vision; and the 28th, having the hardest of all objec¬ 
tives in the Argonne, deserves credit for a brilliant 
achievement; one reads of the regiments of the 5th 
242 



HILL 7 


Division crossing the river on bridges made of tele¬ 
graph poles and duck boards, taking Hill 262, and 
forcing the Germans back on November 6 as they 
menaced the advance of the Americans; and of how 
the 59th took the enemy by surprise and were vic¬ 
torious. 

The service of the 32nd Division makes another 
brilliant chapter of the glorious record for the taking 
of Romagne; and who can forget the dramatic story 
of that brave “ Lost Battalion ” ? The 35th were 
noted for their good humor and marvelous fighting 
ability; a spectacular part was played by the 27th 
and the 30th; and how great was the service of the 
36th Division marching through machine gun fire, 
and the 37th and 75th as well; the 26th fought for 
nine months, acquitted itself with great honor in 
vigorous combat and on the 11th of November, at 
9:30 A.M., just before the signing of the Armistice, 
took two towns. 

The 82 nd, on October 2, were fresh troops as they 
marched up the steep sides of Hill 180; the 77th 
Division, city dwellers from factories and offices in 
New York City, had an enviable record, and on No¬ 
vember 11 witnessed the laying down of arms by the 
German army. 

To read these records is to become convinced that 
there are no braver men living than the young men 
of America, and their services over there in France 
were altogether for others, and magnificent. 

The following tribute which appeared in Collier's 

2 43 



HILL 7 


Weekly, gives just praise to the ist Division of the 
A.E.F.: 

I think that possibly when the ist Division went into the 
Argonne battle, it was the most efficient American division 
that ever wore shoe leather; if it were not, then perhaps the 
2nd was — as all men of the 2nd will agree. We were all 
thrilled when the 1st took the place of the 35th and ad¬ 
vanced over the ground where the 35th had fought desper¬ 
ately. The dead of the 35th were in groups in the Exer- 
mont ravine. When the men of the 1st saw them, they 
knew how good it was to be veterans under exacting com¬ 
petent direction; for veterans do not bunch under the 
enemy’s fire. This is giving the enemy a target. And 
Summerall was in command. He had led the 1st in the 
drive toward Soissons. . . . The 1st, with Summerall in 
command! We knew it would go through! It always had 
gone through. This was the part cast for the 1st in the 
A.E.F. 

Considering the consummate courage of the 
American troops, the ability and wisdom of our com¬ 
manding officers after their men were on the field 
and actually under fire, one cannot help wondering 
what the story would have been had America gone 
into the war earlier. Would not some plan have been 
worked out whereby a considerable proportion of 
the ten millions of men who breathed their last on 
those battlefields of the Western front need not have 
perished? Would our American commanders have 
permitted their soldiers to fight on that Western 
front so continuously? Would they not have seen 
that it was an absolutely impregnable position that 
the Germans held? 


244 



HILL 7 


We cannot wonder that the French would not de¬ 
part for any other front in that war. They were pro¬ 
tecting their native land. But how perplexed and 
sadly curious we are that the English should have 
sent their soldiers into that slaughter-house of the 
Western front through all those four long years. 
The war never was won there, but three million 
youths from England alone lost their lives in this 
place. 

Let me use that small penpoint called “ if ” for a 
few lines. If the American commanders could have 
sailed far east during the first year of the war and, 
in company with their powerful allies — for Russia 
was still powerful at that time — have swept their 
own two million reserves up to Germany’s weakest 
points, would not the end of the war have come with 
Germany’s almost immediate surrender? 

Instead of ten millions killed, as many more 
crippled, and the ten thousand blind men reported 
to be living in France today (blind or becoming 
blind), would there not have been a more moderate 
casualty list? Why did England so wage the war 
that her young men were poured by the million into 
that Western front? Lloyd George, in his four vol¬ 
umes of Memoirs, answers all these questions very 
clearly, very plainly, and at great length. 

If America had led a better way, weighing the 
merits and demerits of that Western front, we believe 
that the results would have been clear and decisive, 
with the fatalities totaling millions less. 

245 



HILL 7 


If— “ the saddest word of tongue or pen! ” 

But, laying down this little penpoint “if,” let us 
resume our story and see our American soldiers 
marching into Sedan, which they reached on No¬ 
vember 8, 1918. 

Down through the centuries has come the name of 
Marathon. Now through the coming centuries 
France and all the world will be thrilled by the name 
Sedan, the city of the World War Armistice! No¬ 
vember 11, 1918, was not the first time that this city 
of Sedan, on the Meuse River in northern France, 
had seen the signing of an armistice terminating a 
war. A city of over sixteen thousand people, it was 
chosen, no doubt, for the World War Armistice be¬ 
cause the Franco-Prussian armistice had been signed 
there in 1871. 

Foch, the great generalissimo of the World War, 
was but a youth when the Franco-Prussian War 
broke out, a student in a military school at Metz. 
Some think he was motivated by revenge throughout 
the World War, but as we read the story of his life 
this hardly seems possible. At eighteen he had won 
the Grande Prix at school, which was presented to 
him by the students, not by the masters, because of 
his good behavior. These students, we are told, 
came from all over the world, though the greater 
part were from Strasbourg and the cities in the vi¬ 
cinity of Metz, and surely they would have been less 
likely to choose for the prize a young man with a 
revengeful nature than someone with a winning per- 
246 



HILL 7 


sonality. Besides this fact, Foch is shown in histories 
as being of a devoutly religious nature and ever seek¬ 
ing God’s guidance in prayer in the chapels along his 
route throughout the World War. The Franco- 
Prussian War broke out in 1870 and the students 
were horrified by what they heard of the Prussian 
invasion; and when Foch returned from his vacation 
in the autumn of 1870, eight thousand French sol¬ 
diers lay dead near Metz, and his best friend, Rivet 
de Chaussepierre, was among them. The battle of 
Sedan in the Franco-Prussian War took place in 
September, 1870, and almost fifty years later the 
French and the Americans entered Sedan at the close 
of the World War. 

Being in possession of a letter written by an officer 
of the 1st Division which marched into Sedan in the 
autumn of 1918, we can visualize the surroundings 
and see the deep satisfaction that must have been 
in the heart of the French generalissimo as he ap¬ 
proached the city of Sedan to sign the armistice end¬ 
ing the war. Though he may not have been guilty 
of revenge, there must certainly have been dark and 
bitter memories haunting him through those years. 

Who would not be interested in reading that ar¬ 
mistice document, signed by General Foch and the 
German generals? Well, here is an order given a few 
hours previous to the signing of the armistice whereby 
General Pershing sends the Americans into the city 
of Sedan. This paper plays a part, as it were, in 
bringing to an end the World War, and attention is 
247 



HILL 7 


hereby called to the place of extraordinary impor¬ 
tance that it occupies among famous war documents. 

General Pershing desires that the honor of entering Sedan 
should fall to the First American Army. He has every con¬ 
fidence that the troops of the ist Corps, assisted on their 
right by the troops of the 5th Corps, will enable him to 
realize his desire. In transmitting the foregoing message, 
your attention is invited to the favorable opportunity now 
existing for pressing our advance throughout the night. 
Boundaries will not be considered binding. By Command 
of Lt. General Liggett. G. C. Marshall, Jr. A.C. of S. G-3. 

Although the 1st Division unfortunately arrived in 
Sedan after the French had taken it and were obliged 
to retire soon after their entrance, the officers of that 
Division were quartered in the town long enough to 
make observations that resulted in the writing of the 
following letter, which for thrilling interest cannot 
be surpassed by any letter from the A.E.F. written 
during the World War. The letter is printed, we be¬ 
lieve, for the first time: 


Nov. 18, 1918 
Army Intelligence School, 
Langres, France 

Dear Family: 

I think I told you about our long march in reserve 
behind the Second Division, the Eightieth and one 
other, until finally we went in and relieved the Eight¬ 
ieth and went over abreast of the Second Division; 
and then, the famous First and Second went over 
548 



HILL 7 


abreast for eight kilometers in two and one-half 
hours, and reached the Meuse at Muzon. We dug in 
there three different times that day, due to the de¬ 
velopments of the Hun artillery fire. At four p.m. 
we received orders to pull out of the sector, leaving 
it wide open, and march twenty-eight kilometers to 
Sedan which we were to take at dawn next day. 

I shall never forget the reception of that order. 
Colonel Roosevelt had gone to Brigade Headquarters 
to get the order. We knew that something big was 
on foot and thought that, under cover of darkness, 
we were going to cross the river and establish a bridge¬ 
head, but we never suspected anything quite as big 
as marching on Sedan. Our P. C. was in the stable 
of a ruined farm on the top of a hill, which for some 
reason the Hun was neglecting. It was bitterly cold, 
we were all soaking wet from the march in the rain 
the night before and the attacks in the rain that morn¬ 
ing; and in this barn we found one little room parti¬ 
tioned off, so we had built a fire in it and dried our¬ 
selves as best we could. During the afternoon the 
wagon train came up, and with them Montplaisir 
(my striker) with the Regimental Mess and my bed¬ 
ding roll and dry clothes. Food and dry clothes 
meant everything to me then. I had not slept since 
the previous morning and could not sleep then, as 
most of the other officers were doing, for the Colonel 
had left me in command until Major Legge could be 
found and brought in. It was growing dark and in 
the gloom beyond my candle, I could make out the 

*49 



HILL 7 


forms of Colonel Ruggles (who was commanding our 
artillery) with his staff asleep on the floor with all his 
runners and ours, and in the whole headquarters, 
only the cooks, Montplaisir, the corporal in charge of 
the runners, the telephone operator, the wireless 
operator, and I were awake. 

Colonel Roosevelt hobbled in (for he was still so 
lame from his wound that he had to use a cane, and 
was not supposed to be serving with line troops) 
w T ith a shout that woke everyone up: “ We are going 
to take Sedan in the morning! ” That woke up 
everybody, and while we ate what supper there was, 
he went over the plans with us. Meanwhile, orders 
were sent to the Battalions to march in to the P. C. 
immediately, eat supper at their kitchens, drop their 
blanket rolls from their packs and be ready for a long 
march. The plan was fairly simple — we had merely 
to march along a straight road from Beaumont to 
Stonne to Sedan. No one knew where the Hun was, 
but the report was that the hole had been broken 
and we were going into it. 

Major Frazier, commanding the 3rd Bn. (which 
was in reserve), got his men together first, so he fed 
them, and to him was assigned the job of leading 
the Battalion. 

The Colonel went off in his car with the 3rd Bn. 
I was sent with Major Youell and the 2nd Bn. which 
followed next, while Ridgely went with Major Legge. 

Major Youell got his Bn. together, less E Com¬ 
pany, which had gotten into the town of Villemont- 
250 



HILL 7 


rey. Since then, the Hun had put so much down 
around that town that we could not get a runner to 
Lt. Leek; and the last runner from him, at noon, had 
said that the town was full of Huns and that Leek 
was having a battle on his hands, and he thought that 
Leek had been killed. Major Youell was pretty 
much cut up over this, for he counted on Leek as his 
best officer, and he hated to go off and leave him there 
all alone in the sector. But there was nothing else 
to do. So he sent one more runner, and left one at 
the P. C. with a marked map and instructions to 
gather in what few detachments there were not yet 
accounted for, and for the senior at dawn to take com¬ 
mand and follow us. 

Then we started on the longest, hardest march I 
have ever made. We had no horses, due to a green 
staff officer having ordered all mounts back to the 
Supply Company early in the afternoon; so, just at 
this time when battalion commanders and the Regi¬ 
mental Staff should have been mounted, with order¬ 
lies, we had to go on foot. Such are the fortunes of 
war. The troops had marched across country for six 
days, had marched 12 kilometers the night before, 
had attacked that morning, dug in three times that 
day under heavy shell fire; and then with a hot meal 
under their belts (the first in two days), they started 
that 58 kilometer march, with stripped packs, carry¬ 
ing two bandoliers of ammunition, and with the full 
knowledge of a fight at dawn to carry them on. And 
if men were tired, think what the officers were, who, 
25i 



HILL 7 


while the men were getting what rest they could dur¬ 
ing those six days, were practically working all the 
time with their platoons, companies and battalions. 
I know for myself that I had not had more than two 
hours sleep a day during those six days. 

That march is partly a deep-burnt memory and 
partly a blank in my mind, for after we got out of 
the shell fire in the first six kilometers, I marched 
in my sleep, and little Doc Stedham held my arm to 
keep me on the road. They say that Major Youell 
and I staggered at the head of that column, arm in 
arm sound asleep, like the two town drunks on Satur¬ 
day night! I distinctly remember that just in front 
of me an artillery officer was leading his horse, and 
that about every ten minutes I would come in violent 
collision with the stern of the beast. They say we 
halted for ten minutes every hour, that is Doc Sted¬ 
ham says we did. He was fresher than the rest of us, 
having slept as soon as he dug in, for his Battalion had 
had no casualties in the attack; and I think he com¬ 
manded the Battalion of which he was the surgeon 
that night. 

The most terrible part of the 2 4 hours which we 
call day is the hour before the dawn. Morale goes 
down horribly then, and with it your energy seems 
to give out. I remember that about this time. For 
hours we had been passing our artillery double- 
banked on the road at a dead halt, the drivers sleeping 
on the road beside the horses, and the cannoniers 
asleep on the road beside the caissons and pieces. 
252 



HILL 7 


Just before dawn, how long before I can’t say, we 
found out why the artillery was stuck. The Huns 
had blown up the bridge over a small brook with 
steep banks! We waded this, but the artillery had 
to build a bridge and they were waiting for the com¬ 
pletion of this. We waded the stream, climbed the 
bank, got back on the road again and went on. 

Dawn came and with it our spirits rose, and I came 
out of my stupor. We found ourselves going along a 
pretty valley, and in the haze as we reached the top of 
the hill, we could see the 3rd Bn. just 300 yards ahead 
of us. This made everything seem right and happy 
once more. As it grew lighter, we made out, not far 
ahead, a town lying in the bottom of the valley. Com¬ 
ing closer we could see smoke coming from the chim¬ 
neys and white flags flying from every house, which 
showed that civilians had been left behind by the 
Hun, and that he had left the town. 

The 3rd Bn. was just entering the town when sud¬ 
denly the stillness of the dawn was broken by the 
explosion of four shells just at the entrance of the 
town, and then the bridge went up in a cloud of 
smoke with a dull, muffled explosion. The 3rd Bn. 
opened out like a fan into open order and circled the 
town, just as prettily as in manoeuvre, while we 
jumped for the ditch on each side of the road until 
we could find out what was going on. The shelling 
continued; apparently the Hun had just one battery 
left for this purpose, as we could dig up no infantry 
or machine guns there, thank God. Apparently also 

*53 



HILL 7 


he had no observation, as he continued to shoot up 
the one spot, despite the fact that outside of the one 
man killed and the two wounded, who had been 
dragged out, there was no one there. 

The Colonel came back, or rather Major Youell, 
and I went forward and found with him Lt. Chataig- 
neau, the French Liaison Officer, and Major Frazier. 
The whole question was where was the Hun, for ap¬ 
parently we had been marching into No-Man’s-Land 
all night, and for all we knew we were a lone brigade 
marching in a bee-line into German territory. This 
was a rather unpleasant feeling, and it was not im¬ 
proved when we discovered that the artillery fire 
came from our right flank. But just then, coming up 
in the other direction, that is from our left rear, we 
spied a regiment of French artillery, and as the in¬ 
fantry always precedes artillery, Chataigneau went 
over and got the dope from them. 

Meanwhile, Colonel Roosevelt sent the regiment 
ahead, and as the shell fire had stopped in the town, 
we marched through the town. During this time 
Legge and his battalion came up, so we had the whole 
regiment and were ready for anything. Chataigneau 
returned with the peculiar news that the French divi¬ 
sion was assigned to the same sector as we; and, as we 
marched through the town, we found it full of the 
Rainbow Division who were bent on the same objec¬ 
tive as we were, except that their axis was slightly 
N. E., while ours was slightly N. W., and we crossed 
in that town. Now, the French were parallel to the 

*54 



HILL 7 


Rainbow, and we were evidently out of place cutting 
across the tails of two divisions. But we had no choice 
but to go on, for our orders were definite. 

We reached the little town of Omicourt. It was 
receiving a rather disconcerting fire from a lone Ger¬ 
man battery of Austrian 88’s (the famous “ Whiz 
Bangs ”), which enfiladed the only street, and you 
had only to stick your head out to have it blown off. 
One patrol went in the town and found the French 
there, so Col. Roosevelt and the runners had moved 
into a house which seemed to be open with a fire 
burning in the stove. We eased in rather hastily due 
to the shell fire, only to find that we had burst in on 
a French Battalion Commander’s P. C. We estab¬ 
lished friendly relations, and finally divided the sec¬ 
tor between us and went out to mop up the snipers, 
while the French did the finest piece of work that I 
have ever seen. Fourteen French artillerymen 
dragged by hand a 75 up the slope of the hill from 
which the German battery was firing under cover of 
the woods, and on reaching the summit went into bat¬ 
tery; and firing under cover of the woods, directed 
their fire at a range of 300 yards, and put that German 
battery out of action in a couple of shots. 

The firing in the town ceased, and pretty soon the 
cellar door in the room in which we were sitting 
opened, and out came first an old man, then his wife 
and then their three daughters. They fell on our 
necks as their liberators; and nothing would satisfy 
them but they must cook an omelette and make cof- 
255 



HILL 7 


fee, so we had a breakfast of bread, butter, omelette, 
coffee and honey, all furnished to them by Hoover’s 
Commission. It certainly tasted as fine as any meal 
I ever tasted. Those people could not do enough 
for us. Everything was free, which was in great con¬ 
trast to the French we had known behind the lines, to 
whom after four years of war, the American soldier 
looked like an open cash box, and prices had soared 
skyward. They told us of their four years of im¬ 
prisonment during which they could not leave the 
area of their village; that every drop of wine had been 
confiscated, and that it had been a penal offense to 
have an egg found in the house as these were turned 
over to the Commander. The strangest thing about 
all that part of the country, the rich fertile valley of 
the Meuse, was that there was not a single horse, cow 
or pig left in the whole country. 

We were getting these details when the door was 
flung open, and in walked an immaculate French 
Major General; and, as he stepped into the room he 
flashed his map on the table and started a long speech 
in rapid French, the purport of which was: “ What 
was the American army doing in his sector? Had he 
not been entrusted with the sacred task of liberating 
Sedan? He and his division came from Sedan; they 
had defended it in 1914; and they were going to take 
it that day! And if any Americans should unfortu¬ 
nately get in his way, he could not stop his artillery 
from firing on them! ” All this and much more to 
the same effect he poured forth at great length, alter- 
256 



HILL 7 


nately slapping the map, which was plainly marked, 
and his chest, which was well covered with decora¬ 
tions. It was a moving scene and he was magnificent. 
Dressed in his best, ready to parade up the main 
street with the bands playing and the colours flying 
as he liberated his native home, and then to find a 
tramp American division rushing headlong for the 
spot to grab off his honours was more than he could 
stand. So he crushed his gold-lace hat in his hand, 
and ordered us out. This was the first pause we had 
heard, and Lt. Chataigneau hastened to introduce 
Col. Roosevelt. The General stopped immediately 
and shook the Colonel’s hand, “ the son of so great 
a friend of France, an honour, I assure you.” Col. 
Roosevelt explained our orders, and the last I saw 
of the General he was rushing off in much haste to 
get us pulled out of his sector. 

It was evident that we were all in the wrong pew. 
So we all found us beds in the town, one officer sleep¬ 
ing in the P. C.; and went to sleep confident that as 
soon as the General found our General, out we would 
come but meanwhile our forward battalion went on 
with the French towards Sedan. Our sleep was short 
as we had expected, and in the early twilight we 
marched back to the next town. Col. Roosevelt and 
I were the last to leave. I did not wake him until the 
last unit had passed going back, the rest of the staff 
having gone ahead to prepare billets. So, after an¬ 
other omelette, coffee, bread and honey, for which I 
cannot thank Mr. Hoover too much and still more 

*57 



HILL 7 


the happy townspeople, we walked back up the valley 
like bad boys caught stealing jam, and talking of ar¬ 
chitecture and poetry. 

There was one peculiar thing that we had all no¬ 
ticed. The oldest daughter of the house in which we 
had been so hospitably entertained was twenty, which 
means that she was but sixteen when the Huns came; 
and when I first saw her I thought I was back in Ger¬ 
many,* so differently was she dressed from the other 
women. She was truly German in all outward ap¬ 
pearances, and when in the course of the conversation 
her mother said with a sigh of relief: “ Thank God 
the swine are gone! ” she said: “ They are not swine, 
Mother, but men like all the rest.” We found many 
tow-headed children in that country, and I think it 
will take many years to stamp out the mark of the 
beast in the captured territories. 

That night we slept in the town of Chemery, where 
early in the morning we had drawn the artillery fire; 
and Montplaisir had the cooks there in time to give 
us a real breakfast. The Colonel slept in the padre’s 
house and we had our mess there. The old Padre 
had breakfast with us and his tales would fill another 
volume, for he had had permission to travel and saw 
and knew more than any of the others. That break¬ 
fast lasted for three hours, and from time to time, the 
Padre would go down to the cellar and bring up china 
and silver which he had buried there four years ago. 

* Mr. Thomas studied a year in Germany before being graduated 
from Yale. 

258 



HILL 7 


We jokingly asked him if he didn’t have a bottle of 
wine buried in the cellar; and he said, alas no! the 
penalty was too severe. But he reached in the cabinet 
and brought forth a bottle of wine, which had been 
issued by the German government or the Hoover 
Commission once a month for mass. 

The next two days we spent moving along the 
front, sleeping as usual in the woods, and marching 
most of the time. Meanwhile, the Armistice rumours 
became more and more strong, until finally we 
moved our headquarters into a chateau, where at 9 
a.m. on the 11th of November, we heard the great 
news that we had fought our last battle of the war 
and that the Armistice was signed. 

Capt. Shipley Thomas (1st Division) 

The following is General Pershing’s tribute to the 
1st Division: 


G.H.Q., France, Nov. 10, 1918 

General Orders 
No. 201. 

1. The Commander in Chief desires to make of record in 
the General Orders of the American Expeditionary Forces 
his extreme satisfaction with the conduct of the officers and 
soldiers of the 1st Division in its advance west of the Meuse, 
between October 4 and 11, 1918. During this period the 
division gained a distance of seven kilometers over a coun¬ 
try which presented not only remarkable facilities for enemy 
defense but also difficulties of terrain for the operation of 
our troops. 


259 



HILL 7 


2. The division met with resistance from elements of 
eight hostile divisions, most of which were first class troops 
and some of which were completely rested. The enemy 
chose to defend its position to the death, and the fighting 
was always of the most desperate kind. Throughout the 
operations the officers and men of the division displayed the 
highest type of courage, fortitude and self-sacrificing devo¬ 
tion to duty. In addition to many enemy killed, the divi¬ 
sion captured one thousand four hundred and seven of the 
enemy, thirteen 77 MM field guns, ten trench mortars and 
numerous machine guns and stores. 

3. The success of the division in driving a deep advance 
into the enemy’s territory enabled an assault to be made on 
the left by the neighboring division against the northeastern 
portion of the forest of Argonne, and enabled the 1st Di¬ 
vision to advance to the right and outflank the enemy’s po¬ 
sition in front of the division on that flank. 

4. The Commander in Chief has noted in this division a 
special pride of service and a high state of morale, never 
broken by hardship nor battle. 

5. This order will be read to all organizations at the first 
assembly formation after its receipt. (14790-A-306.) 

By Command of General Pershing: 

James W. McAndrew, 

Chief of Staff. 

Shipley Thomas, author of the Sedan letter, and 
first official historian of the A.E.F., was the grandson 
of Thomas Shipley, president of the Abolitionist So¬ 
ciety of Philadelphia, who lost his life from overwork 
in the cause of the slaves before the Civil War, and 
whose friend, the poet Whittier, wrote the following 
lines to his memory: 


560 



HILL 7 


TO THE MEMORY OF THOMAS SHIPLEY 

# # * # # 

Gentlest of spirits! not for thee 

Our tears are shed, our sighs are given; 

Why mourn to know thou art a free 
Partaker of the joys of heaven? 

Finished thy work, and kept thy faith 
In Christian firmness unto death; 

And beautiful as sky and earth. 

When autumn’s sun is downward going, 

The blessed memory of thy worth 
Around thy place of slumber glowing! 

But woe for us! who linger still 
With feebler strength and hearts less lowly. 
And minds less steadfast to the will 
Of Him whose every work is holy. 

For not like thine, is crucified 
The spirit of our human pride; 

And at the bondman’s tale of woe, 

And for the outcast and forsaken. 

Not warm like thine, but cold and slow, 

Our weaker sympathies awaken. 

Darkly upon our struggling way 

The storm of human hate is sweeping; 
Hunted and branded, and a prey, 

Our watch amidst the darkness keeping, 

Oh, for that hidden strength which can 
Nerve unto death the inner man! 

Oh, for thy spirit, tried and true, 

And constant in the hour of trial, 

Prepared to suffer, or to do. 

In meekness and in self-denial. 

261 



HILL 7 


Oh, for that spirit, meek and mild. 

Derided, spurned, yet uncomplaining; 

By man deserted and reviled. 

Yet faithful to its trust remaining. 

Still prompt and resolute to save 
From scourge and chain the hunted slave; 
Unwavering in the Truth’s defense. 

Even where the fires of Hate were burning. 

The unquailing eye of innocence 
Alone upon the oppressor turning! 

Oh, for the death the righteous die! 

An end, like autumn’s day declining, 

On human hearts, as on the sky, 

With holier, tenderer beauty shining; 

As to the parting soul were given 
The radiance of an opening heaven! 

As if that pure and blessed light, 

From off the Eternal altar flowing, 

Were bathing, in its upward flight, 

The spirit to its worship going! 

And so the autumnal skies of that November, 1918, 
looked down upon the ceasing of the firing — the end 
of the World War. Why should any attempt to de¬ 
scribe the scenes of that joyous Armistice Day in 
America be made here? Those of us who lived in 
the cities recall that the joy was quite unconfined 
everywhere and the chief expression of that joy was 
continuous noise. 

The location of Lieutenant Shipley’s service at this 
time was unknown to his family, but was he not an 
officer in the Quartermaster’s department? Was not 
262 



HILL 7 


his service behind the fighting area? He would be 
safely home in the near future: there was no doubt 
of this in our minds and we anticipated his letters 
with great interest. But the days passed and no word 
came. A package of exquisite laces had come the day 
before Armistice Day, but it had been mailed from 
Paris in AUGUST. His last letter had been mailed 
September 16 and now, November 11, we looked in 
vain for mail from him. An uncomfortable premo¬ 
nition began to descend upon us, and as time passed 
with no word, this premonition grew until we began 
to speak to our friends of this oppressive sense of 
calamity, and one answered us one day: “ It is simply 
outrageous, the failure of the A.E.F. mail delivery/' 
With this thought we tried to be comforted. Of 
course, it was the slow delivery of the army mail; that 
was why we were not hearing from him who had ever 
been faithful throughout his service about writing 
letters home. 

Our Christmas package to him was dispatched in 
time under all the army rules, but we spent our holi¬ 
days without a word from him. Thus the days, the 
weeks, the months passed by, and then suddenly, on 
January 23, 1919, a cable arrived from Paris with the 
truth: he had been killed in action in October, 1918, 
and had been buried on the 15 th near Nantillois. 
The chaplain was then back in America, not far from 
Chicago, and we were soon in communication with 
him by telephone. The following day we received 
from this chaplain, the Rev. J. Austen Lord, a letter 

263 



HILL 7 


giving us the details of our brother’s death and burial 
and telling of his bravery in that terrible fighting near 
Nantillois. The letter follows: 


March 5, 1919 
Ainsworth, la. 

My dear Mrs. Leach: 

Your telephone call just came in from Chicago. I 
haven’t my war record at home for definite informa¬ 
tion but the only thing I cannot give you definitely 
is the day I buried Lt. Shipley. At home, my record 
gives that, but I am most certain October 1 2 th is cor¬ 
rect. Lt. Shipley at the time he met his death was 
directing an attack northwest of Montfaucon. Am 
very sure from the place and time I found him that 
he had fallen late the day before. He met an instant 
death so did not suffer. As I remember his wound, 
it was caused by a fragment from a high explosive 
shell. I buried so many that day you will see it is 
difficult for me to keep definitely in mind so many 
details. I remember Lt. Shipley though. He was 
not mutilated at all and his body was in excellent 
condition when buried. He fell just at the edge of 
a clump of woods and I buried him close to where 
he fell. 

I wrapped him in his blanket and gave him a Chris¬ 
tian burial as much as it was possible to do then. The 
battle was still raging all about us and he was buried 
amidst the surroundings he had given his life in. If 
you desire, when I get home again at Crothersville, 
264 



HILL 7 


I have my map and all my papers and records there 
and I could tell you where I made his grave. It 
would be very easy to find if you so desire. Could I 
speak personally with you I could tell you much bet¬ 
ter how the battle raged and what fine courage Lt. 
Shipley showed in leading his men. You may well be 
proud of so fine a brother. All the information I 
could get on Lt. Shipley was that he was Dartmouth 
’08 and had been at Oak Park, Illinois.* 

Please excuse the writing, as I am still suffering 
from wounds of October 14th. 

Chaplain, J. Austen Lord 

Chaplain Lord and his wife came to Chicago not 
very long after this letter was written and gave us 
many more details concerning our brother. 

On the Easter sabbath of that spring of 1919, a 
memorial service was held for the two soldiers from 
the First Presbyterian Church of Oak Park who had 
died in service, Lieutenant Shipley and Douglas 
Mott, the latter having died of illness in Texas while 
in service there. This sermon was delivered by Dr. 
John M. Vander Meulen, pastor of the church. Dr. 
Frank Gunsaulus, himself a great preacher, pro¬ 
nounced this memorial sermon the greatest he had 
read or heard during the World War. 

In the course of the conversation during the week¬ 
end stay of Chaplain and Mrs. Lord at our home, we 

* In another letter we read that his emergency address was given 
as 190 East Chestnut Street, the residence of a sister in Chicago. 

265 



HILL 7 


learned of the great bravery our brother had shown 
in those battles. From some maps Chaplain Lord 
had with him, we learned the locality where these 
battles were fought and the exact spot where George’s 
grave had been made. It was not necessary to dig 
these graves, for the German shells had made many 
graves ready at hand. Some held more than one 
body, but, he remembered, our brother’s remains 
were placed alone in one grave. He told us that our 
brother’s face was calm, as though asleep, and he 
recognised him from our pictures of him. A key 
ring was on a wire on his wrist giving his name and 
residence and college. The firing at the time of his 
burial was terrific and the chaplain very often em¬ 
phasized his great bravery. He placed a wooden slab 
over the grave and wired the key ring upon it. 

After the chaplain’s visit to us, Lieutenant Ship¬ 
ley’s mother endeavored to comfort herself with the 
facts which he had given to her. Her son had been 
very brave, his death had been instantaneous, his 
face had been calm as though in sleep. The strain of 
all, however, had been very severe and in less than 
a year after the chaplain’s report to her, Lieutenant 
Shipley’s mother had passed on to be with her beloved 
son over there. 

With the cables from the French bankers and 
Major Laurence Whiting, who had been requested 
to make the search for our George’s whereabouts, 
and with the chaplain’s report, our family had for a 
very long time to be content as to his history in the 
266 



HILL 7 


Argonne battle. The Chaplain thought there were 
a hundred and fifty men in that company and we 
later learned that but thirteen of these came out from 
France alive. The chaplain told us these men were 
separated, not huddled together, as in many cases. 
We attempted to get into communication with these 
thirteen men and were able to hear from most of 
them but obtained little further information from 
them concerning our brother’s death. 

But Thomas Moran, of Illinois, a private sta¬ 
tioned at Langres during August and September, 
1918, before the Argonne battle, upon reaching home 
saw the notice of Lieutenant Shipley’s death in the 
newspaper. The following letter was received from 
him: 


July 30, 1919 
112 W. Cleveland St., 
Spring Valley, Ill. 

Dear Mrs. Leach: 

Some time ago, while I was coming from Camp 
Mills enroute to Camp Grant, I saw Lieutenant Ship¬ 
ley’s picture in the Chicago Tribune. 

Mrs. Leach, I was with the 301st (three hundred 
& first) Supply Train and happened to know Lieu¬ 
tenant Shipley and was talking about him tonight, 
so Mother would have nothing for me to do but write 
to you tonight. Lieutenant Shipley was with the 
304th (three hundred Sc fourth) Sanitary Train sta¬ 
tioned at Chateauneuf, Cher, then St. Amond (Mont. 
56 7 



HILL 7 


Rond Cher) in the center of France for a couple of 
months, then went to the front with the 304th (three 
hundred 8c fourth) Sanitary Train and was in the 
Meuse-Argonne. 

I met an enlisted man from Lieutenant Shipley’s 
Company some time later and was told he was killed 
by high explosives. Mrs. Leach, Lieut. Shipley was 
well liked by all men under his command and sure 
enough had to die a good soldier especially an officer 
in command. 

Thomas J. Moran 

The letters from Lieutenant Lee and Captain 
Abrams, two men who were among the fortunate 
thirteen who survived, follow: 


November 22, 1920 
Seattle, Washington, 

Mr. F. W. Leach, 

Chicago, Ill. 

Dear Sir: 

I am very sorry indeed that I am unable to furnish 
you any of the details of Lieut. Geo. Shipley’s death. 

When we entered the Montfaucon area there were 
three of us officers with “ B ” Company, 4th Infantry. 
During the attack of October 4th one was killed and 
another wounded. On or about the 6th I was 
wounded and left for the hospital. Lieut. Shipley 
had been with another company in the regiment and 
was transferred to “ B ” Company with some other 
268 



HILL 7 


officers shortly after I left, and I learned afterward 
that he was killed. 

A Captain by the name of Gillett was transferred 
to “ B ” Company about this time and I believe that 
he can give some details of Lieut. Shipley’s death. 
I am sorry that I cannot furnish you Capt. Gillett’s 
initials or present address, but if you will address 
him as Capt. Gillett formerly with “ B ” Company, 
4th Infantry, 3d Division, and in care of the adjutant 
General’s office, I am sure he will get the letter. 

If I can be of any further service to you or Lieut. 
Shipley’s relatives, I shall be very glad. 

Yours sincerely, 

Emmett C. Lee 

December 24, 1920 
United States Army Recruiting Station 
416 Main Street, Joplin, Mo. 
Mr. Thomas N. McGowen, 

Chicago, Ill. 

Dear Sir: 

Your letter of the thirteenth inst. has just reached 
me, having been forwarded from Camp Pike. 

I am more than sorry I cannot give you the infor¬ 
mation you want, regarding the death of Lt. Shipley, 
but, while I remember him, I do not know just when 
and where he was killed. On the date you mention, 
Oct. 11th, 1918, the First Battalion, Fourth Infantry, 
of which Co. B. was a part, was in regimental reserve, 
just north of the town of Nantillois, and he must 
269 



HILL 7 


have been struck by a piece of high-explosive shell, 
as we were not in range of machine guns, or snipers. 
We remained in reserve until the night of the 13th, 
when we relieved the Fifth Division in the Bois de 
Foret. 

If you will write to 1st Lieut. Geo. T. Wyche, 
American Forces in Germany, you might get more 
definite information, as Lt. Wyche was with Co. B 
from about Oct. 8th, to November 11 th. You might 
also, thru the War Dept, at Washington, get in touch 
with Mr. Charles C. Gillette, formerly Captain, 4th 
Infantry, who commanded Company B. during the 
most of the fighting in the Argonne. 

Hoping that this information will be of help to 
you, I am 

Very truly yours. 

Geo. E. Abrams, 

1st Lieut. 4th Inf., 
Asst. Rect’g Officer 

June 18, 1923 

Headquarters Company, Fourth Infantry, 
In camp Winchester, Washington 

Mrs. F. W. Leach, 

My Dear Mrs. Leach: 

In reply to your letter of May 14th which was de¬ 
layed in reaching me through the fact that we have 
been in the field for some little time, I will try to 
give you from memory an account of the activities 
of Company “ B ” Fourth Infantry, from October 1st 
270 



HILL 7 


to 11918. Since I was on duty with Company “ A ” 
most of the time and the two companies were together 
I believe it will be fairly accurate. 

The Fourth Infantry relieved a regiment of the 
79th Division near Nantillois on October 1st, in day¬ 
light and under German barrage, the First Battalion 
consisting of companies “ A,” “ B,” “ C,” and “ D ” 
in the front line. “ A ” and “ B ” companies were 
the front line of the battalion with “ C ” and “ D ” 
following them. After the relief above mentioned 
we remained in position until 5:00 a.m. October 4th 
when we were ordered forward under heavy German 
artillery and machine gun fire. The battalion was so 
badly depleted that it was unable to advance more 
than 2 miles. “ B,” “ C ” and “ D ” companies lost 
all of their officers, either killed or wounded during 
this advance, and the battalion lost two-thirds of its 
enlisted men. During the night of October 4th the 
first battalion was relieved in the front line by the 
second battalion, the first battalion going to the re¬ 
serve until the night of October 12 th when it was 
ordered into the line to relieve an entire division on 
our right which was badly shattered. 

I believe that your brother Lieutenant Shipley 
must have been killed on October 4th during the ad¬ 
vance above described as the entire battalion was 
subjected to the most terrific machine gun and ar¬ 
tillery fire imaginable. 

While the first battalion was in reserve they were 
near Montfaucon. We all saw the headquarters of 
271 



HILL 7 


the former Crown Prince, but the periscope he was 
said to have used had been removed. 

I knew the Lieutenant Lee, of “ B ” company that 
you mention very slightly. 

Hoping that this information will be of some as¬ 
sistance to you and assuring you that I will be glad 
to help you in any way possible, I am 

Yours sincerely, 

George E. Abrams 
Captain 4th Infantry 

Our brother had one opponent in his foot racing 
days who at the last taught him the gentle art of 
being outshone. When George held the record for 
running the half mile in two minutes, he was called 
by one Chicago newspaper the best half miler of the 
state. His friend, James Lightbody, of the Univer¬ 
sity of Chicago, was the man who lowered that record. 
Mr. Lightbody became later an Olympic champion 
and ran the half mile in several seconds less than two 
minutes. 

By one of those strange coincidences of life, it was 
at the grave of our brother at Nantillois that these 
two friends of those athletic days met again, for Lieu¬ 
tenant Lightbody’s tasks in the World War stationed 
him at Toul as Intelligence Officer and he came often 
into the location of that first grave of his friend, 
George Shipley, at Nantillois. He stumbled upon it 
one day and read on the disc fastened by the chaplain 
to a wooden slab over the grave the words: George E. 
272 




HILL 7 


Shipley, Oak Park, Illinois, Dartmouth College. 
There he saw where his old friend and athletic rival 
lay — buried alone in a chasm of the Argonne battle¬ 
field. Here in this vast burying ground of the world’s 
cathedral, he saw where his old friend had fallen 
among the mountain tops of the Argonne and in his 
reflections upon this meeting, so far distant in France, 
far from home, he knew Lieutenant Shipley had won 
his life race and for him, too, a crown was gained in 
this battle contest of the World War. Many friends 
have visited the grave at Romagne where our broth¬ 
er’s remains were removed a year later, but only 
Lieutenant Lightbody, his old friend and athletic 
opponent, viewed the grave where he fell on October 
11, 1918. 

Twelve years after receiving the letters from the 
officers of Company B, Lieutenant Lee and Captain 
Abrams, we were able to learn the address of Captain 
Gillette of whom both these officers had written. 
Captain Gillette’s letter describing his journey from 
Souilly to Nantillois was given above. He had hur¬ 
ried to his company upon hearing of their going into 
battle and was travelling at the same time as Lieu¬ 
tenant Shipley toward Nantillois, but the latter seems 
to have been some days in advance, though on Mont- 
faucon they were evidently very close. Captain and 
Mrs. Gillette came to see us one day to relate his 
experiences during those days when our soldier was 
in the same battle. Among other things he told us 
was the fact that officers of the A.E.F. often com- 

*73 



HILL 7 


pletely discarded their officer’s insignia in battle, as 
making them too plain a target when they appeared 
above the trenches. This reminds us once more of 
the statement in the autobiography of Lord Fisher, 
the great English Sea Lord, who wrote that dur¬ 
ing the war the bulletins in London every morning 
giving the list of names of those dead in France, were 
headed with these words: “ All Second Lieutenants 
unless otherwise marked.” The captain also related 
that the men of that area were without trench sup¬ 
port. They were obliged to dig their own shelters 
in a hurried attempt to escape the danger of the Ger¬ 
man shells. 

From all this information gathered through the 
intervening years, it seems to me that a definite con¬ 
clusion may be drawn. We know where, how and 
when our brother died. And my answer to the ques¬ 
tion with which we started, namely, how did the sup¬ 
ply officer of the 79th Division die with the infantry 
of the 3rd Division, is given as though I were narrat¬ 
ing a certainty. If any readers should arrive at a dif¬ 
ferent conclusion, they are free to do so. The facts 
have been given. 

George said to his mother: “ Whatever may hap¬ 
pen to me, I shall never cease to thank God for this 
evening.” He bade her goodbye as though he knew 
there was a possibility of not returning to her. When 
he left the office of General Summerall he returned 
to Geddeon for his complete equipment, expecting 
further orders from General Pershing later. When 

274 



HILL 7 


he arrived at Geddeon, the hospital base, the 
wounded were being brought back to this hospital 
unit and he heard them tell of the trouble the 79th 
Division were having under the Germans’ renewed 
firing. 

The 79th Division was returning — his own di¬ 
vision before Montfaucon was in retreat. If a break 
should occur in our lines at this point, once the front 
line headquarters of the German Crown Prince, 
could not the German forces break through and 
rush over that Montfaucon road, enter Souilly and 
the “ Sacred Way ” to Paris and reach the city in a 
short time? What could have been Lieutenant Ship¬ 
ley’s reflections other than these at this hour? He 
had promised to do a man’s job, and our old proverb 
again comes to mind: “ I must make my speech good 
for empty is the word of him who does not stand by 
it with his life! ” 

He left at once, told his orderly to drive north, 
slipped into the side car of his motorcycle and was off 
toward Montfaucon. Because of the congested road 
as described in Captain Gillette’s letter, it was a slow 
procedure, but the motorcycle could climb Mont¬ 
faucon and by October 2nd he had conquered HILL 
7 of our story. 

Can my reader visualize that scene as George sur¬ 
mounts Hill 7, Montfaucon, that October day? 
Upon its crest, soldiers became at once targets to the 
enemy. There was nothing to obstruct the view that 
the German soldiers had of our boys as they reached 

*75 



HILL 7 


the summit. The ground in front, made a shambles 
through four years of firing, would not allow the 
passage of a motorcycle and he saw the necessity at 
once of abandoning his car. With volcanic sudden¬ 
ness he saw the yawning spaces down that hill. Hill 
7 was conquered by our brother in a moment. It 
requires no effort of imagination to hear him say as 
the bombs were bursting in air in front of him and in 
the rear — “ Goodbye, old pal, you have brought me 
to Montfaucon and I am grateful to you, but now our 
ways must part. I must go on without you, so my 
beloved cycle, goodbye, farewell — farewell! ” 

According to our letter from Captain Gillette the 
motorcycle was left on the curb in the main street. 
Montfaucon was then but a great gathering of ash 
heaps and crumpled iron, and no doubt the motor¬ 
cycle was soon a small mass of steel, but it had carried 
our brother safely up Hill 7. George came to Com¬ 
pany B, 3rd Division, before October 4, according to 
the letters from the officers of that infantry Division. 
He must have been in the fighting during the attack 
on the 4th (according to these letters), but survived 
until the next attack which they made on the 10th. 
All histories record October 1 o as the date of the sec¬ 
ond phase of the Meuse-Argonne. 

As the Chaplain reported, he was killed in this 
battle on October 11, 1918. 

He had played the man gloriously, he had seen the 
need of officers — later reports in histories show that 
officers were all either killed or wounded in this in- 
276 



HILL 7 


fantry at this stage of the war — and if going north 
instead of south as he left Geddeon that day was an 
act of insubordination, it was what Lord John Fisher, 
the First Sea Lord of the British Admiralty, in his 
book Memories and Records called “ the Genius of 
insubordination/' 

And here my story must end. Our brother had 
taken the death-call course to be of help in the battle 
of the Argonne as his division was retreating before 
Montfaucon: he had stood by his word with his life. 

When we began our narrative, the question at issue 
was, how did he die with the infantry of the 3rd Divi¬ 
sion, being Supply Officer of the 79th? And now this 
question has been fully answered. 

The Honor Roll of the A.E.F. for the Chicago area 
contains the name of Shipley but once, Second Lieu¬ 
tenant George E. Shipley. This being the case, the 
following incident proved a notable distinction for 
our soldier brother. 

After returning from France at the close of the war. 
General Pershing, the Commander in Chief, was in¬ 
vited to address the annual meeting of the Chicago 
Sons of the American Revolution. This was held at 
the LaSalle hotel on February 11, 1922, and was well 
attended because of the great interest in the speaker 
of the evening, who was to relate some of his experi¬ 
ences in the war. Among those attending this eve¬ 
ning’s festivities was the only brother of Lieutenant 
George Shipley, who went as a member of the organi¬ 
zation, quite unconscious of the attention which he 

*77 



HILL 7 


was to receive that evening. An invitation was given 
for all to meet the General and to shake hands with 
him as they passed to the banquet room. An an¬ 
nouncer stood with him who ascertained the name of 
each in turn and gave it to the General that he might 
know to whom he was speaking. As the announcer 
called the name Shipley, General Pershing stepped 
forward to shake hands with Mr. Shipley and, stop¬ 
ping the great line of guests, engaged him in conver¬ 
sation, asking “ Is this Mr. Shipley? ” “ Yes,” an¬ 

swered the brother of Lieutenant Shipley. “ I am 
very glad to meet you, Mr. Shipley. Did a relative 
of yours by the same name lose his life in France? ” 
“ Yes, my only brother, George Shipley, was killed 
in the Argonne.” “ I am very sorry. I have been 
listening for this name, and wish to extend my sym¬ 
pathy to you,” and as he continued conversing with 
Mr. Shipley while the long line of guests was kept 
waiting, it was very plain to be seen he was giving 
our soldier brother Lieutenant Shipley a great dis¬ 
tinction in this evening’s meeting of the Sons of the 
American Revolution in Chicago. And to his 
family it seemed a very kind and unusual bit of atten¬ 
tion. 

Those who were with Mr. Shipley could only ex¬ 
claim “ What a wonderful memory the General has! ” 
He had brought the name of George Shipley all the 
way with him from France to the soldier’s home city, 
Chicago — it was indeed a marvelous feat of memory 
on the part of the Commander in Chief, and to his 
578 



HILL 7 


nearest of kin closely approached the importance of 
a citation. 

“ Facts are established by investigation and delay,” 
someone has said. If so, then we may feel that the 
years since our brother’s death in the Meuse-Argonne 
battle have brought us the facts exactly as they were. 
We need wait no longer for any further information 
to come to us concerning October 11 and 12, 1918. 

Besides the three letters from the officers of the 4th 
infantry, 3rd Division, Lieutenant Lee and Captain 
Abrams, and the letter from Chaplain J. Austen Lord, 
we have the evidence of several other participants 
who in conversation brought to Lieutenant Shipley’s 
family much information of those days at Nantillois. 
Chaplain J. Austen Lord, who buried him on the 
12 th of October, Mr. Harry Cook, ex-Personnel offi¬ 
cer of the 3rd Division, Lieutenant James D. Light- 
body, who found his grave soon after the burial, 
Captain Shipley Thomas of the 1st Division, and 
Captain Charles C. Gillette of the 4th infantry, were 
all near Nantillois at that time. 

The ex-Personnel officer of the 3rd Division, Mr. 
Harry Cook, no doubt received his report from some¬ 
one who had seen our brother fall. The chaplain 
found only the identification disc about his wrist 
when he buried him the day following. Captain 
Gillette informed us that many officers of the A.E.F. 
removed their officers’ insignia before going over the 
top, to prevent their being too plain a target for the 
German gunners. George, “ facing the German guns 

*79 



HILL 7 


at almost pointblank range,” may have removed his 
officer’s insignia. Here is a passage taken from Mr. 
Cook’s report: 

March 18, 1921 

Chicago, Ill. 

... As per our conversation a few days ago, the follow¬ 
ing is to my best recollection the information obtained by 
me and in turn forwarded to the adjutant general of the 
army, some time during the month of May or June, 1920, 
at which time I was personnel clerk in charge of casualty 
reports in the Personnel Adjutant office, 3rd Division, Head¬ 
quarters, Camp Pike, Arkansas. 

In the early part of October, 1918, a man named Shipley 
came to Company B, 4th Infantry; the regiment had at this 
time seen hard fighting and had been receiving numerous 
replacements, so that when he came, there were no questions 
of his identity asked, tho it was noticed and remarked upon 
by some of the older men that this man wore a much better 
grade uniform than the average enlisted man, also that he 
wore the waist part of the Sam Brown belt, but no insignia 
otherwise denoting that he might have been an officer. It 
was along about the 11th of October, 1918, that the platoon 
which Shipley had assigned himself to, were to go over the 
top in an attack; in this attack they were facing the German 
guns almost at point blank range and the officers in charge 
of this platoon were either all killed or were casualties at 
once due to the fact that they were in advance and leading 
the men: at this stage, Shipley, practically a new man in the 
company, took charge of the remaining men and succeeded 
in gaining the required objective, when he was killed in¬ 
stantly. It was not known up to this time that he had been 
an officer, but when he was buried the identification discs 
and papers found on the body identified him as being Sec¬ 
ond Lieutenant George E. Shipley. 

280 



HILL 7 


The diagram following was made from a drawing 
by Lieutenant James D. Lightbody and was called 
by him “ almost absolutely accurate." He was in 
this locality often in his service as Intelligence Officer 
stationed at Toul. 



281 











\ 


PART TWO 




















































Lieutenant Shipley’s Grave in Romagne Cemetery 

Showing the original wooden cross (bottom) , and the per¬ 
manent monument of Parisian marble (top) 





CHAPTER I 

MY OWN REFLECTIONS UPON WAR 


With elation and delight, I record the possession 
of six grandsons and a grandnephew, all now under 
twenty years of age. My reflections upon war then 
are written with feeling. 

My thoughts run leaping back over the pages that 
have been written upon this horrible war and as 
memory counts those of our acquaintances who lost 
their lives in it I am compelled to confess that my 
thinking about war becomes further confused. Is 
it ever absolutely necessary to wage war? 

There is one thing we should all agree upon as to 
war. War is not necessary to train men for cou¬ 
rageous lives or courageous acts. It is sometimes as¬ 
serted that war is not only inevitable but a good thing 
for the race, that it brings out humanity’s noblest 
qualities, develops heroism, self-sacrifice, etc. This 
is absolutely false. Men do not need war to make 
them noble. 

“ Only one who is cruel and perverted can see any¬ 
thing good in war. Some wars seem unavoidable 
but there never was anything good in war. War re¬ 
sults only in misery, suffering, brutality, disease, cun- 
285 



HILL 7 


ning, deception, hatred for centuries to come, and 
eventual racial degeneration.” 

Recalling those seven youths whom we had known 
who lost their lives in this last war: my own brother, 
George Shipley, Patrick Anderson, Thomas Knox, 
all three of Dartmouth College; Norman Robertson 
of Montreal, Gordon Campbell of Detroit, Frank 
Sturtevant and Hazen Vaughn of Oak Park, we are 
reminded again of Whittier’s poem to Thomas Ship- 
ley, the second stanza of which opens with, “ Gentlest 
of Spirits! ” That well describes these men whom 
we knew, and it seems that war very often takes men 
of such natures as its sacrifices. 

It is said that in England nowadays, you may hear 
whispered about among the people: “ Never again, 
never again.” Up in Scotland, the Church of Scot¬ 
land has concluded never again to take part in any 
war and here in our own country a great number 
of ministers have just declared themselves pacifists. 
In addresses published in England, you see such ex¬ 
pressions as this: “ Statesmen who did not keep us 
out of war should be impeached.” 

On this subject of pacifism, I again confess to con¬ 
fused thinking. When the English missionaries in 
China were rushing to the seacoast to escape Chinese 
bandits, with what joy did we read of the dawn re¬ 
vealing a great British man-of-war standing by, as the 
missionaries and their families fell exhausted upon 
the sands. I am for peace, and love it, as all right- 
thinking people do, but I do not belong to the paci- 
286 



MY OWN REFLECTIONS UPON WAR 


fists in all honesty; neither am I a militarist. But the 
view of the individual is of little moment. When a 
man-of-war is needed for the protection of the weak, 
my thinking on the whole subject becomes very much 
confused. 

As for deliverance from war, the old statement 
of Lord Bryce still holds good, does it not? 

“No scheme for preventing future wars will have 
any success, unless the states will join in coercing by 
their overwhelming united strength any state which 
may disregard the obligation which it has under¬ 
taken.’* 

But when we have reached the point where a bomb 
the size of an orange is all that is needed to destroy 
a city, surely no time should be lost by our wise states¬ 
men in discovering some method of agreement 
among nations. 

But my frail fancies as to the deliverance from war 
must end here. These affairs are the work of states¬ 
men and of kings. The sad truth about war is that it 
takes our youths to do the fighting and the suffering, 
and their training begins early in life as we may wit¬ 
ness now among the nations of Europe. 

Hear what the small boys of Germany must repeat 
to Chancellor Hitler whenever they are called before 
him: “ In our youthful blood we feel the warlike 
fury of our fathers. In the flaming dawn we haugh¬ 
tily arise. Our premonitions are of charges and of 
thunderbolts. We foresee perils but it is with glad 
hearts. Hitler, we offer you our sacrifice.” 

587 



HILL 7 


In the latest book by Kerensky, The Crucifixion of 
Liberty, one reads of the youths’ part in the revolu¬ 
tion of Russia. While life flows on in its accustomed 
stream, the youth of the universe are studying, are 
learning, are deciding, are mayhap rebelling — listen 
to this from the pages of Kerensky’s book: 

The misfortune of Russia was not in the existence of those 
companies of former serf owners, but in the absence of a 
healthy fullgrown middle class, determined between the 
government reactionaries and the social revolutionaries. 
The result was an unnatural political situation throughout 
the country. Little groups of revolutionary youths with so¬ 
cialistic, sometimes with even anarchistic, tendencies, groups 
hardly connected or rather quite unconnected with the 
peasantry or the workmen — these groups of heroic youths 
shook the whole structure of the Russian state with their 
propaganda and their bold acts of terrorism, as though to 
give help from the left wing to the right wing or to the 
path of a police dictatorship, more and more undisguised, 
more and more dangerous not only to the country but to 
the monarchy itself. All harmless and peacefully disposed 
youthful associations were forced to leave their peaceful 
educative work to take up revolutionary terrorism. 

And now we read that boys of eight years are forced 
to take up military training in Italy! 

A famous old Russian composer said of one of his 
symphonies: “ It is a legitimate outburst of anguish.’* 
My reflections on war are likewise “ an outburst of 
anguish.” 

Frank J. Loesch, president of the Crime Commis¬ 
sion of Chicago for so many years, has this to say of 
288 



MY OWN REFLECTIONS UPON WAR 


the Boy Scout movement: “No criminals come 
from this organization, but it lacks the religious teach¬ 
ing which is necessary for greater citizenship.” 

The schools, the universities, do not teach enough 
religion. Good citizenship must have religion for 
its background, and by religion I mean that of the 
son of God, the teachings of Jesus the Christ, who 
taught forgiveness and to overcome evil with good. 

The following conversation published in a recent 
magazine, reads thus: 

“ Why do women talk so much? ” 

“ Because they teach the world to talk.” 

“ This truth reveals great responsibility,” was the 
reply. 

If we, the feminine portion of humanity, are ac¬ 
cused of being too loquacious, shall we not use that 
great responsibility, that teaching power, in giving 
to the little people of the world truths that shall 
form a life-foundation as they are growing up. 

So, as the years and the shadows deepen and 
lengthen in my own life, may my reflections upon 
war have some weight with any younger women who 
chance to read these pages. Would that I might send 
this message around the world, to China, Japan and 
the Balkans: Teach your little children religion, that 
is, the religion of the Son of God; teach them the 
words of Him who taught forgiveness, love, and the 
elimination of the spirit of revenge from the heart; 
teach them such words as these below, if you will al¬ 
low this dictating by one so stricken in years as to feel 
28 9 



HILL 7 


she knows whereof she speaks — this is not the 
“ testament of youth,” but the testament of old age: 

God is love. Ask and ye shall receive. 

It is He that hath made us. Pray without ceasing. 

In Him we live and move. Love one another. 

Thou, God, seest me. Am I my brother’s keeper? 

A three- or four-year-old may learn to lisp these 
truths which will not only make him free but will 
preserve him from the perils that beset us here upon 
earth, and at the same time make him a greater 
citizen. 

There are hundreds more of such truths to be 
found in the older versions of the Word of God, in 
the American Revised version, in the Moffatt trans¬ 
lation, and in the Goodspeed translation, if sought 
with care and eager interest. 

The little people thus fortified through life with 
such thoughts imbedded in their minds will press 
forward the peace of the world. If we, the feminine 
portion of the human race, are charged with taking 
upon ourselves too great a responsibility in life, that 
of teaching the world to talk, let us do this which 
lies ready to our hands, let us influence the youth for 
peace. 

When the American Legion met in Chicago in 
1933, it was a great gathering of old soldiers, many 
of whom had been heroes in France; but to the con¬ 
sternation of certain of our citizens during those 



MY OWN REFLECTIONS UPON WAR 


days, it was seen that though many had been brave 
to stand before the guns of the Germans, they were 
not brave to stand before a cup of wine that inebri¬ 
ates and, alas, many fell ingloriously on Chicago’s 
thoroughfares! 

To write again of the Legion, now when there is 
so much criticism on the air and in Washington 
about the bonus, it is worth while to remember that 
over there in France are lying a considerable propor¬ 
tion of soldiers who depended upon their salary 
month by month as their sole source of income. 
Among those was our brother, Lieutenant Shipley; 
nor did he take out any insurance, being in this re¬ 
spect, it appears, the one exception to the rule among 
the officers at Camp Grant. 

As our soldiers marched into the battle of the Ar- 
gonne in September, 1918, with the circle of the hills 
of France before them and the thought of the home¬ 
land within them, the sense of justice was the im¬ 
pelling force that drove them on. The Germans had 
no right to take the land from the French people 
nor to destroy it as they were doing. It was some¬ 
one’s duty to prevent this great loss to France. That 
word Justice should be the foundation word of peace 
in the world now, as we see peace seeming to fade 
from our vision. Justice to all would bring peace, 
and that alone. For instance, the Germans want 
their colonies returned to them; well then, there 
should be protection along the Rhine border for the 


591 



HILL 7 


French nation. Justice is or should be the watch¬ 
word throughout our world or there will be no 
peace. 

We think of the old proverb once more: “ I must 
make my speech good, for empty is the word of him 
who will not stand by it with his life.” Our soldiers 
had promised to do their bit in France. Lieutenant 
Shipley, riding out on his motorcycle from Geddeon 
and turning north instead of south, was moved not 
only by a sense of justice, but by his word given long 
before: “ Vain is the word of him that will not stand 
by it with his life,” and we see him struggling up 
Hill 7, all the way under fire, a fearful fifteen miles 
for us to contemplate. A sense of justice was im¬ 
pelling him. “ This is a man’s job,” had been his 
word of the war, and on he went, mounting the last 
hill of his life with great courage. 

The cable telling of this day, sent by the personnel 
adjutant in January following, recording as will be 
observed, that he left Geddeon to report at First 
Army headquarters where General Pershing was di¬ 
recting the Argonne battle in his office at Souilly 
reads thus: 

10 Jan. 1919 
Headquarters, 79th Division 
Whiting Bureau £lys£e Place, Paris 

Reference your wire Jan 9. Lt. George Shipley 304 Sanitary 
Train last seen leaving this Division for Headquarters of 
1st Army Corps latter part of September. No other infor¬ 
mation as to whereabouts. 

Close, Personnel Adjutant 
292 



MY OWN REFLECTIONS UPON WAR 


While in my own confusion of mind it is not pos¬ 
sible to number myself among the pacifists, yet it is 
true that in the great confusion of mind, prevailing 
upon this serious subject, if one lifts up his eyes to 
the hills or, as the Psalmist wrote, “ If I consider the 
heavens,” one shall see the great Creator has a plan 
for the people of this earth and that His plan is for 
peace and goodwill toward man. 

The reverent astronomer tells us there is great 
strength for the soul of man in gazing up into the 
heavens. Considering the stars at night, viewing 
Arcturus, which is forty light-years, and other planets 
a million million light-years distant, in the vastness 
of the heavens, he sees there a Mind Supreme, sus¬ 
taining the Universe in law and order. He sees there 
a Great Compassionate God ruling the Universe in 
which the sight at night of the star world is inde¬ 
scribable, is incomprehensible, is beyond belief. 
But considering the heavens there is in the vastness 
of space, Law and Order and Reason displayed there 
— for those who will look up. 

So, in finishing my story with these confused re¬ 
flections upon war, there is the great truth to be re¬ 
corded that in lifting our eyes to the hills, we see a 
great God ruling our Universe in whose Mind there 
is no confusion. We have but to be still and know 
that He is God. Viewing the stars we may under¬ 
stand, as Dr. Edwin Frost says, that “ Though we are 
dust, we are star dust! ” 

And if from any tragic Hill 7 of life or from any 

*93 




HILL 7 


Argonne hill or from any thought high and lifted up 
we consider the stars in their courses, we may take 
courage and be strengthened for every battle that ap¬ 
proaches us while dwelling upon this planet, so 
marvelously maintained by its maker. 


294 



CHAPTER II 

MEMORIAL SERMON 


Preached by the Reverend John M. Vander 
Meulen, pastor of the First Presbyterian Church, 
Oak Park, Illinois, on April 20, 1919. 

The chastisement of our peace was upon Him; and with 
His stripes we are healed . — isaiah 53:5 

Does this seem to you a bold text to use of two 
merely human heroes? Were not these words 
written only of Christ? Yes, I think they were 
written of Christ. They find their highest, their 
only complete fulfillment in Him. They are such 
a startling prophecy of him in the mouth of the Old 
Testament prophet that the wonder has been ever 
since that the Jew can not see it. 

But this is the general principle of the Old Testa¬ 
ment prophecy, that while it finds its highest and 
complete fulfillment only in Christ, it finds its first 
and partial fulfillment in events closer at hand and 
in beings exalted, to be sure, and still merely human. 
The Old Testament is a book of foretypes of Him 
who was still to come. It is so of the prophet’s great 
figure of the Servant of Jehovah. In the first in¬ 
stance, it was to him the spiritual part of the nation 

*95 



HILL 7 


personified until at last rising on the wings of his 
prophecy he said things of this Servant of Jehovah 
that could find fulfillment, fulfillment true and com¬ 
plete, only in Him who was more than man. 

Yet never did his prophecy or his figure entirely 
exclude the merely human foretypes. Of them in 
a measure too it was always true. For: 

They are but broken lights of thee, 

And thou, O Lord, art more than they. 

And so in its finite measure it has likewise been 
true of all the human after-types of Him. It is so 
that I use these words tonight. The chastisement of 
our peace as a people was laid upon these two young 
men whose heroism we are met to commemorate 
tonight and by their stripes we are healed. Our 
memorial tonight is a study in human vicariousness. 

Lieutenant George E. Shipley was born in Detroit, 
Michigan, October 14, 1883 and prepared for college 
in the Oak Park High School. At Dartmouth he 
was a very prominent undergraduate, winning his 
“ D ” in track as a member of the Varsity Relay 
Team. He was a member of the Alpha Delta Phi 
fraternity, Casque and Gauntlet Senior society, and 
Palaeopitus. In his senior year he was elected vice- 
president of his class. After graduation he was con¬ 
nected with Butler Brothers, a mail order house in 
Chicago. During the summer of 1916 he served on 
the Mexican border with Battery E, 1st Illinois Field 
Artillery. When our country declared war with 
296 



MEMORIAL SERMON 


Germany, Mr. Shipley enlisted in the First Officers’ 
Training Camp at Fort Sheridan and received his 
commission as lieutenant. He went to France last 
summer. A letter from his college president, Dr. 
Hopkins of Dartmouth, discloses the fact that he had 
endeavored to secure his influence to send him to 
France earlier. He was eager to get into the fighting. 
He, however, secured his assignment in the early 
part of last summer, going as a member of the 304th 
Sanitary Train of the 79th Division. 

Varied may be and are the temperaments of which 
heroes are made. He, though he was born in Michi¬ 
gan, was for the greatest part of his life an Oak Park 
boy. In his veins flowed the blood of heroic English¬ 
men of the past. They had come here to settle in 
this land of the free because of the desire for free¬ 
dom, and the stirring of great deeds were in their 
souls. One of them, the great-grandfather of George 
Shipley, was Henry Shipley, a youthful hero of the 
Revolutionary war. There is much in the makeup 
of these two young men and in their careers that 
seems to run parallel, so that were we believers in 
the reincarnation of souls we might be tempted to 
say that in George Shipley the soul of Henry Shipley 
had come to earth again. For of Henry Shipley the 
chronicler tells us that “ he was a very strong, ath¬ 
letic young man, of excellent constitution, sober and 
quiet in disposition, and considerably above the 
average in intelligence.” He too, in the crisis of his 
day, in 1776, had enlisted in the American army. 

297 



HILL 7 


He participated in the Battle of Long Island. “ At 
one time, while on the bank of the East River, New 
York/' the chronicler tells us, “ the men of his com¬ 
pany were surrounded by the British. . . . There 
was but one way to escape, and that was to drop 
everything and swim across the river to the city. 
This was a desperate undertaking, but about ninety 
of the men chose it as a last resort and started for 
the opposite shore. Only seventeen of them reached 
the city alive, and (probably because he was an ath¬ 
lete) Henry was one of that fortunate number. . . . 
Henry also participated in the battles of German¬ 
town, Monmouth and Brandywine. He also passed 
the dreadful winter with the starving patriots at 
Valley Forge and, the following spring, tramped the 
frozen hills with bleeding feet among the old veteran 
command, derisively called by the British, ‘ George 
Washington’s Ragamuffins.’ ” 

But the chronicler continues: “ It was the very 
spirit, however, that made these men willing to be 
called ‘ ragamuffins ’ for the salvation of their coun¬ 
try and the preservation of their manhood that car¬ 
ried them through the hardships of that terrible cam¬ 
paign and finally enabled them gloriously to triumph 
over the ‘ best trained army then organized in the 
world.’ ” How the very phrases applied to young 
Henry Shipley of Revolutionary days fit the career 
of Lieutenant George in these days! Let me repeat 
them once more while you apply them to our mod¬ 
ern hero, the worthy great-grandson of so gallant an 
598 



MEMORIAL SERMON 


ancestor: “ It was the very spirit that made these 
men willing to be called ‘ ragamuffins ’ for the salva¬ 
tion of their country and the preservation of their 
manhood that carried them through all the hardships 
of that terrible campaign, and finally enabled them 
gloriously to triumph over the 4 best trained army 
then organized in the world.’ ” 

If Henry Shipley could have looked down from 
the skies, I think he would have been greatly en¬ 
couraged over the progress of the race. The same 
heroism and dauntless courage still flowed in the 
heart of that one of his descendants who seemed so 
much like himself. But so friendly, meanwhile, 
had grown the relationship between the country of 
his adoption and the land of his ancestors against 
which he had fought that, so far from being enemies, 
they and their sons were standing side by side against 
a common foe battling for the freedom of the world 
and the ideals of the kingdom of Christ. Henry 
Shipley stood in his humble battle-array against the 
men who had come over seas to fight the liberties of 
young America. George Shipley was to go over seas 
to stand in battle-array against a foe which would 
have destroyed the liberties of England and America 
both. 

George Shipley was of a retiring disposition. It 
is said of Abraham Lincoln that he was much given 
to solitary meditation, the brooding of a serious 
mind over great problems. It was true likewise of 
Jerome Savonarola, of Joan of Arc. In such minds 
299 



HILL 7 


there may easily arise something of the prophetic. 
It is said of Abraham Lincoln that even in his 
younger years he seemed to feel instinctively that he 
was on the eve of great and dramatic coming events 
that were casting their shadows before, and felt too 
that he would have a part in that crisis when it came. 

Something of that same prophetic instinct, one 
is tempted to believe, was felt in the soul of young 
Shipley. He sometimes spoke of it. And once when 
talking of his future career he was heard to say, while 
tears sprang to his eyes: “ I wish I could do some¬ 
thing for my country/' 

Such men are apt not quite to find themselves till 
the great crisis which is foreshadowed in their souls 
comes to birth, and they are taking their part in it. 
For it is for this that God has been holding them, as 
it were, in reserve. 

I think it was in some measure so with Lieutenant 
Shipley. The occasion for which he had been meant 
had come at last. He was quick to recognize it and 
hear its call to him. And perhaps never in his life 
was he so at peace within as when at last his chival¬ 
rous soul had embarked on the enterprise of the 
great world’s deliverance. 

I say he was a chivalrous soul. As in the case of 
the great commoner whom I have just mentioned, 
God had combined in him a mighty, athletic body 
with a gentle, though strong spirit. It was a fit com¬ 
bination for a knight. Once in his younger years 
when he saw a young companion bullied by a larger 

3°° 



MEMORIAL SERMON 


boy he had held the bully with his face in the snow 
until the little fellow should cry that his recent tyrant 
had had enough. It was somewhat the same propo¬ 
sition that had come to young Shipley now. It was 
an adventure of chivalry. And he set forth, gentle 
in spirit but strong in body and brave in soul, with 
all the high purpose of a knight of old. 

And gloriously did he vindicate the best traditions 
of knighthood. His chaplain has described how 
gloriously he fell. About a month before in his last 
letter, a letter to his mother, he felt that he was 
drawing near the hour when he would strike his 
great blow for his land and the world. He says: 

Dear Mother: 

Have been so busy have not had time to write any¬ 
one, but hope you will get this note to let you know 
that everything with me is excellent so far, and I 
expect it will be all along. It will not be possible 
for me to let you know where I am, but we have 
moved twice since I last wrote, and are leaving again 
tonight for a two-nights’ march and then we will be 
at our permanent place, as far as we know, for a 
month or two anyhow. 

Last night I saw the flash of the big guns for the 
first time. The sky was well lit up but I was not near 
enough to be able to give you any more description. 
The town I am now in you have all seen on the map 
many times. It has not been bombarded for a year. 
Across the street from where I am now I can see a 
301 



HILL 7 


ruin, a wrecked building that gives physical evidence 
of the last German visit a year ago. Our airships 
were flying over this town all day yesterday and last 
evening I saw a formation of aeroplanes that looked 
just like a flock of geese in the shape of a V. They 
were starting out to the front to bombard the enemy. 
This is the most interesting place I have seen yet. 
Everything is going along here just as though we 
were a hundred miles from war. Up till the time 
we came here we have been traveling in trains but 
from now on it will be night marches with our hel¬ 
mets on and gas masks in alert position. I read in 
the morning’s paper that the Americans were taking 
a certain town, and I suppose the glare in the sky 
that I saw last night must have been a part of that 
movement. . . . The last time I wrote, I mentioned 
the fact of going into some beautiful mountain 
scenery but the “ dope ” was wrong; have been sent to 
a different place which, according to this morning’s 
paper is just getting into a new offensive. I trust 
you are well, and happy over the progress which the 
Allies are making. I believe the fighting will stop 
by Christmas, with a sure victory for U.S. 

Love, 

George 

The next day or so he was in the terrible fighting 
in the Argonne Forest. I wonder whether any of us 
will ever get any adequate conception of the awful¬ 
ness of that fight? Never, I venture to say, in the 

302 



MEMORIAL SERMON 


history of the world has there been anything which 
in its awfulness and in its demand for sheer courage 
and superhuman effort has been its equal. Even 
the ordinary soldier who comes back to us out of that 
fight, as some of our boys are coming back, will scarce 
be able to make us see it. For it is peculiarly the 
soldier’s limitation that he cannot describe his own 
fight. He is so lost in the action of it that he cannot 
see or tell about it. 

The Colonel of the regiment in which Major 
Rivet of Oak Park was killed was in that same fight 
about Montfaucon in which Lieutenant Shipley lost 
his life, and this Colonel writes to Mrs. Rivet in a 
letter I have read: “ The woods were literally cov¬ 
ered with lines of machine guns and our advance was 
hammered incessantly by high explosive shells, and 
the woods reeked with gas.” 

A soldier friend of Lieutenant Shipley’s family, 
who himself visited the ground where Lieutenant 
Shipley fell leading his men, writes of it: “I think 
in the last few weeks the efforts for an armistice 
rather shut off from public view the wonderful work 
of our First Army in the Argonne Forest. It is un¬ 
believable that any humans could go through the 
terrain and fortifications that they did in the last 
month of fighting. It was a woods of dense barbed 
wire, trenches, holes, snares, underbrush and mud 
that was a terrible death-trap for the machine-guns. 
I do not believe anyone but Americans could have 
done it. I say this without disrespect to our Allies, 
303 



HILL 7 


for I have nothing but admiration for them and their 
men. But it was a genuine American trick to do the 
impossible and the fighting has been spoken of by 
the French and the British as the most wonderful 
and brilliant offensive fighting of the entire war.” 

I have said that soldiers are not at their best gen¬ 
erally in description. But William Benjamin West, 
a minister who had volunteered as a sort of chauffeur 
and unofficial chaplain combined, was in that fight 
and he has given us a fairly good account of it. He 
writes in his book: 

Four long, dreadful years the Forest had been the impreg¬ 
nable stronghold of the Kaiser’s minions. The last word 
in the perfection of trench warfare had been spoken by 
them. . . . 

Machine gun nests had been planted in every conceivable 
point of vantage from a camouflaged bush on the hillside 
to the concealed “ lookout ” in the tallest treetop. Cannon 
of every caliber had been placed throughout the woods and 
under the lee of each protecting hill or cliff. A system of 
narrow-gauge railroads sent its spurs into every part of the 
Forest, delivering ammunition to the guns and supplies to 
the men, even connecting by tunnel with some of the largest 
dugouts. The Boche had not held this stronghold undis¬ 
turbed. The traditions of the battlefield, passed from lip 
to lip, told of the numerous and costly offensives by the 
French and English, but always the same story of failure 
to take or hold the Forest. 

When the American offensive was ready to be launched, 
the French were eager to gamble, first, that our doughboys 
could not take the “ untakeable and second, that if by 
any miraculous procedure they succeeded in breaking the 
German line they could not hold what they had taken. 

304 



MEMORIAL SERMON 


This did not mean that they doubted the courage or the 
ability of our men but that they did have knowledge of the 
impregnable nature of the German stronghold. 

On that eventful morning near the end of September, the 
rainy season having started, and the mud of the Argonne 
vying with the mud of Flanders, our guns began to cough 
and roar. For three terrific hours they spoke the language 
of the bottomless pit and caused the very foundations of 
the earth itself to quiver. Germans taken prisoners by our 
men afterwards acknowledged that they had never heard 
anything so terrifying in their lives. Having sent over their 
letter of introduction, our boys followed in person with a 
shout and a dash. Over the top and through the wire en¬ 
tanglements of No Man’s Land they fairly leaped their 
way. Hundreds of tons of barbed wire had been woven 
and interwoven between posts driven into the ground. 
These posts were in rows and usually stood about three 
feet out of the ground. The rows were four feet apart. 
Then through the trenches of the German front line they 
swept and out across the open country which lay between 
them and the Forest. The marks of the four years’ conflict 
were everywhere visible; the blackened and splintered re¬ 
mains of trees, the grass-covered shell-holes, the ruined towns 
and the wooden crosses, silent markers of the tombs of the 
dead. Beside these were the fresh holes in the fields and 
on the hillside where our guns had literally blasted the 
whole face of the ground. 

The shell-holes ranged from the washtub size made by 
the 75’s to the great fissure-torn holes made by the big naval 
guns, and which would make an ample cellar for an ordi¬ 
nary dwelling house. I have seen horses which had fallen 
into these great holes shot and covered over because they 
could not be gotten out without a derrick. 

In the Forest proper our boys encountered machine-gun 
nests, artillery pieces of every caliber, and the Boche with 

305 



HILL 7 


whom the woods were infested. Besides the opposition of 
an active enemy were the natural barriers of deep ravines, 
stony ridges and cliffs, and in many places an almost im¬ 
passable barrier of dense underbrush and fallen limbs and 
trees. Through all this, however, our boys pushed that first 
great day, ignoring danger which they were not compelled 
to conquer in their rapid advance. When they emerged 
from the Forest they swept down the hillside, through the 
gas-filled valley, and stormed the ridges beyond. On the 
crest of one of these ridges was Montfaucon, a strongly 
fortified position, said to have been one of the observation 
towers of the Crown Prince during the four years of the war. 
Having surrounded and taken this stronghold they swept 
on through the next valley and having reached their ob¬ 
jective ahead of schedule dug themselves in, while the fire 
of German guns pierced and depleted their ranks. 

Whatever military critics may say, our hearts thrill with 
pride for these heroes who, being given an objective, took it 
with an impetuosity which caused them to outrun even their 
own barrage. And having taken it to hold on for days at 
whatever cost until the heavy artillery could be brought up 
to support their line and make a new gain possible. 

When the first surprise shock was over and the enemy 
realized that the Americans were really taking their im¬ 
pregnable fortifications, and opening the door for the defeat 
and bottling up of the whole German army, their resistance 
stiffened to desperation, and our boys had to literally hew 
their way to victory. 

Dr. Thibodeau, formerly pastor of the Cuyler 
Avenue Church here in Oak Park, over there on 
Y. M. C. A. duty, tells us more particularly of the 
work done by the 79th division, Lieutenant Ship¬ 
ley’s division, in this awful fight. He writes: 

306 



MEMORIAL SERMON 


“ Tuesday of this week I spent on the battle fronts 
where the 79th division made history for itself and 
for our great America. My trip took me through 
Dombasle, Montfaucon, Nantillois, Dead Man’s Hill 
No. 304, and returning we came through the Ar- 
gonne Forest, where some of the hardest fighting of 
the war occurred. . . . 

“ Montfaucon is the city in which the German 
Crown Prince had his residence for some time. I 
was in the house which he occupied as his quarters; 
it is about the only house left standing in the whole 
city. 

“ The old church tower from which he observed 
the artillery fire of Verdun is completely fallen down, 
but one may get a fairly good idea of its advantage 
as a point for observing the destructive accuracy of 
those big German guns. The country for miles 
around is visible and it resembles a horribly pock¬ 
marked face. No Man’s Land is everywhere there¬ 
abouts so far as the eye can see. 

“It took the boys of the 79th division to finally 
drive the Germans out and then they did it in early 
October, and, had the armistice only been delayed 
or better, not been given at all, they would have 
been in Berlin by this time! Oh, but they left a 
trail of graves behind them. I walked over miles of 
battlefield around Montfaucon and stood over graves 
of a vast multitude of our brave lads who were 
buried just where they had fallen, in shell holes, by 
the roadside, in fact anywhere dirt could be easily 
307 



HILL 7 


and hastily gotten to cover their heroic forms. . . . 
The evidences of their titantic struggle were all 
about me. The earth was ripped and scarred; holes 
where they had ‘ dug in * to escape the merciless rain 
of machine gun bullets, dugouts where they had 
slept when exhausted. Oh, what a fearful price they 
paid for our peace and security! ” 

Among those of the 79th division who there paid 
that supreme sacrifice was Lieutenant Shipley. His 
chaplain, J. Austen Lord, gives the following ac¬ 
count of his death: 

“ Lieutenant Shipley at the time he met his death 
was directing an attack northwest of Montfaucon — 
about seven kilometers. I am sure from the place 
and time I found him that he had fallen late the day 
before. He met an instant death and so did not 
suffer. As I remember his wound, it was caused by 
a high explosive shell. I buried so many that day 
you will see it is difficult for me to keep definitely in 
mind so many details. I remember Lieutenant Ship- 
ley, though, very distinctly. He was not mutilated 
at all and his body was in excellent condition when 
buried. He fell just at the edge of a clump of woods 
and I buried him close there where he fell. I 
wrapped him in his blanket and gave him a Christian 
burial, as much as it was possible to do then. The 
battle was still raging all about us and he was buried 
amidst the surroundings he had given his life in. 
Could I speak personally with you I could tell you 


308 



MEMORIAL SERMON 


much better how the battle raged, and what fine 
courage Lieutenant Shipley showed in leading his 
men. You may well be proud of so fine a brother/’ 

The cablegram put it more briefly, but none the 
less emphatically: “ Lieutenant Shipley died glori¬ 
ously on the battlefield.” 

What more could he have wished? He had wanted 
to do something for his country. And God, who had 
put that desire in his soul, gave him its fulfillment 
by letting him strike a decisive blow not only for his 
country but for the whole world and for the kingdom 
of Christ in what was perhaps the most critical hour, 
save one, in human history. 

For first of all, he fought in one of the outstanding 
battles of all time. In all the future when men read 
or meet to talk over the deeds of shining prowess and 
undaunted heroism performed on the world’s battle¬ 
fields, they will speak with thrilled tones and glisten¬ 
ing eyes of the Argonne. It is something, merely to 
have been a part of such a fight as that. 

And then it was a triumphant fight. Lieutenant 
George Shipley was leading his men to victory. He 
died in the supreme moment of a glorious success. 
When Wolfe lay mortally wounded on the heights of 
Quebec some officer exclaimed: “ They fly.” “ Who 
fly? ” asked the dying leader. “ The enemy,” an¬ 
swered the officer, “ they give way everywhere.” 
“ Now God be praised,” said Wolfe, “ I die content.” 
So George Shipley died, leading his men heroically, 


309 



HILL 7 


leading them in one of the most glorious victories 
America had ever won. It was for this, countless 
millions of his countrymen at home and in France 
had been praying and sacrificing. It was his call to 
be at the fulfilled end of their prayer, the point of 
their shining sword. 

And then over and above this, he fell, as I have 
already suggested, not merely in victorious battle, 
but in one of the most decisive battles of all history. 
Like the battle of Marathon or of Waterloo or of 
Gettysburg it accomplished something. It accom¬ 
plished more than any of these. Many men have 
fought and sacrificed in other days and other parts 
of this world. But to few men has it been given 
from the realms above so to see of the travail of their 
soul and be satisfied as it has been given to those 
American heroes of the Argonne. They stood at the 
crossroads of the world’s life, stood between the 
road to scientific barbarism and paganism and au¬ 
tocracy on the one hand, and the road to a higher 
Christian civilization and brotherhood on the other. 

Humanity with all its fears. 

With all its hopes of future years. 

Was hanging breathless on their fate. 

And they did not fail humanity, past, present or 
future. They saved mankind. And the gratitude of 
mankind is justly theirs forever. It is wonderful to 
have been given such a part to play among the world’s 
generations. 

3 10 



MEMORIAL SERMON 


And finally, George Shipley died chivalrously, vi¬ 
cariously, as Christ whom he had professed died. 
You and I will go to our graves quietly it may be, 
sustained let us hope by our faith. But to few men 
is it given actually to die gloriously; to none save to 
those of whom it can be said that they died volun¬ 
tarily for others. How such men must be able better 
to understand Christ’s cross in eternity! What a 
bond it must be between them and Him! 

To have died victoriously in one of the world’s 
outstanding decisive battles, winning, and dying for 
one’s country and for a perennial blessing to the 
whole world, to have died vicariously as Christ died, 
this was the place that God had meant for Lieutenant 
George Shipley, the gift God had given him. We 
dare not pity him. 

Lieutenant George Shipley, in the name of Christ 
and of this church of which you were the representa¬ 
tive, I thank you and I salute you. 







CHAPTER III 

HEROES ALL 

The heroes of mankind are the mountains, the highlands 
of the Moral world. — Stanley 

Among our youthful friends in the World War 
there were several who stood out as heroes by reason 
of their achievement in places of exceptional danger. 

These several young friends included Captain 
Kingman Douglass, First Lieutenant William H. 
Vail, Captain Shipley Thomas, Lieutenant Wilbur 
Eickelberg, First Lieutenant Herbert Ullmann, 
U.S.N.R., First Lieutenant Lester B. McAllister, 
First Lieutenant Jacob Reininga, Lieutenant 
Thomas McGowen, and the Overstreet brothers, 
Captain Ralph, Albert, Harry, and Edward. The 
records of the first four of these soldiers are taken from 
publications after the armistice. 

My gratitude to those who responded to my re¬ 
quest for records is very great: it was no simple task 
for them, as the soldiers themselves are so hesitant 
about talking of their experiences. 


313 



HILL 7 


CAPTAIN KINGMAN DOUGLASS 

As is well known, the greatest air squadron in the 
American forces in France was the 91st Aero Squad¬ 
ron of which our young friend, Kingman Douglass, 
was captain. For his heroic service in this flying 
work he received a magnificent, breath-taking Dis¬ 
tinguished Service Cross and it was presented to him 
by the three generals then commanding: Foch, Haig 
and Pershing. 

The following from the book Heroes All gives but 
a faint idea of what that heroic service really was: 

Kingman Douglass.Captain 

Air Service, Pilot, 91st Aero Squadron. For extraordinary 
heroism in action near Longuyon, October 31, 1918. While 
on a photographic mission Captain Douglass encountered 
a superior number of enemy pursuit planes. Notwithstand¬ 
ing the odds against him, he turned and dived on the hostile 
formation, destroying one plane and damaging another. 
He then continued on his mission and returned with photo¬ 
graphs of great military value. 


314 




HEROES ALL 


FIRST LIEUTENANT WILLIAM H. VAIL 

If any aero squadron equaled the 91st of the A.E.F. 
it was the 95 th of which our young friend, William 
Vail, was a first lieutenant. 

He too received the D.S.C., and the following taken 
from Heroes All gives but little of what his experi¬ 
ences really were during those seasons of faithful serv¬ 
ice in the air: 

William H. Vail.First Lieutenant 

Pilot, Air Service, 95th Aero Squadron. For extraordinary 
heroism in action at Stenay, France, November 6, 1918. 
Lieutenant Vail, while on patrol, engaged four hostile pur¬ 
suit planes which were about to attack an accompanying 
plane. Almost immediately he was attacked by five more 
enemy planes, all of which he continued to fight until he 
was severely wounded and his plane disabled. He glided 
to the ground, abandoning the fight only when his machine 
fell to pieces near the ground. 


3*5 




HILL 7 


CAPTAIN SHIPLEY THOMAS 

Commanding the second platoon of Company I, 
26th Infantry, Lieutenant Thomas entered the line 
on November 15, 1917. After the 1st Division was 
withdrawn from the line for further training Lieu¬ 
tenant Thomas was appointed Regimental Intelli¬ 
gence Officer of the 26th U.S. Infantry, which posi¬ 
tion he held until the signing of the armistice. He 
served continuously with this regiment throughout 
every engagement in which the 1st Division took part 
and was never wounded or evacuated from the front 
for any cause. (Captain Thomas is the only combat 
officer of this regiment holding this record.) Fol¬ 
lowing the Allied counter-offensive toward Soissons 
on July 18, 1918, he was promoted to a Captaincy by 
the Corps Commander. He received the following 
citation in Division Orders: 

Captain Shipley Thomas, 26th Infantry, served with gal¬ 
lantry and devotion to duty in all engagements of the regi¬ 
ment. As regimental Intelligence Officer he repeatedly ac¬ 
complished missions of vital importance to his regimental 
commander. Frequently called upon to direct the movement 
of assaulting units and other important missions in forward 
areas, he traversed ground swept by machine gun and ar¬ 
tillery fire. At Soissons, July 18-22, 1918, he kept his regi¬ 
mental commander informed at all times of the progress of 
the advance units, exposing himself fearlessly to do so. In 
the Argonne Forest, Oct. 1-11, and November 6-8, 1918, 
his efficient and devoted work was invaluable to his com¬ 
manding officer. 

316 



HEROES ALL 


LIEUTENANT HERBERT S. ULLMANN 

Lieutenant Herbert Satterlee Ullmann, U.S.N.R., 
enrolled in The Chicago Yachtsman’s Naval auxil¬ 
iary a few days after war was declared. He attended 
the U.S. Naval Reserve Training stations at Navy 
Pier, Chicago, and Pelham, New York, graduating 
with commission of Ensign. He served as deck offi¬ 
cer on several ships on the Atlantic until transferred 
to the U.S.S. Oosterdyk. After the sinking of the 
Oosterdyk he was sent to the British Isles. He served 
then as executive officer of the U.S.S. Democracy, a 
cargo ship operated by the United States Navy plying 
between the British Isles and the west coast of France. 
He served here until after the armistice. He ranked 
as Lieutenant, senior grade, at the time of his dis¬ 
charge. 

Herbert S. Ullmann, Lieutenant Junior Grade, Navigat¬ 
ing Officer on former Dutch merchant ship Oosterdyk, 
18,000 ton displacement. This ship had been taken over by 
the U. S. government and was being used for carrying cargo. 
Loaded with munitions, travelling in a convoy of ships to 
Europe, the Oosterdyk was rammed by U.S.S. San Jacinto 
(one of the ships of their own convoy which was off her 
course at the time) on July 9, 1918 at 12:15 a.m., 1300 
miles off the coast of New York. The ships were running 
in total darkness. A great hole was tom in the side of the 
Oosterdyk, and the bow was ripped off the San Jacinto by 
the collision. Captain of the Oosterdyk manoeuvered the 
ship so as not to be run down by the rest of the convoy 
which kept passing them in the dark. At orders of captain, 

317 



HILL 7 


Lieutenant Ullmann went to the radio room to give posi¬ 
tion of ship to the radio operators for S.O.S. No panic 
or confusion as men went to their life boat positions. At 
further order of captain he went to the deck and engine 
room to determine the amount of damage done. On deck, 
one life boat completely demolished but men to whom it 
belonged standing calmly by a life raft. “ The great chasm 
plowed in the superstructure deck was a ghastly sight and 
the night so dark that practically nothing could be seen 
over the side except the sea rising and falling in a steady 
swell. Fortunately the moderate gale we had been having 
had blown itself out.” 

The engine room was taking in water fast but all men 
there were standing at stations. The cargo of the ship was 
shifted to help remove the list from the ship. Instructed 
to lay course to nearest port which was Halifax, 761 miles 
away. There had been no answer to their S.O.S. signals. 
San Jacinto signalled by blinker to stand by as she was sink¬ 
ing, her bow gone, only frail bulkhead holding water. At 
daylight, since pumps of Oosterdyk were keeping up with 
the incoming water and San Jacinto was still afloat, both 
ships decided to start slowly toward Halifax, all S.O.S. calls 
still unanswered. At 1:45 p.m. engine room of the Ooster¬ 
dyk suddenly filled with water, coal bunker and bulkhead 
having given way, and ship started sinking rapidly. All 
life boats were lowered safely and pulled away. The ten 
men whose life boat had been demolished, a quartermaster, 
Ullmann, and the captain, slid down a rope into a little 
harbor dinghy which had been lowered. As they pulled 
toward the San Jacinto, two miles away, they watched the 
Oosterdyk explode and sink into 10,000 fathoms of water. 
Cargo and ship valued at $10,000,000. Crew was taken 
aboard the San Jacinto. The radio set of the San Jacinto 
was repaired and by 10 p.m. heard more S.O.S. signals being 
sent out. Finally answered at 2 a.m. The U.S.S. Culgoa 

318 




HEROES ALL 


and a Norwegian ship answered S.O.S. but could not locate 
the San Jacinto by directions given to them. Captain of the 
San Jacinto asked Navigating Officer, Lieutenant Ullmann 
of Oosterdyk, to navigate San Jacinto. An error was found 
in the compass due to the shock of the impact at collision — 
corrected and correct location radioed. At 7 p.m. the Nor¬ 
wegian ship arrived and stood by San Jacinto until the fol¬ 
lowing morning when the U.S.S. Culgoa (which had been 
the second ship in their own convoy) arrived, permitting 
the Norwegian to proceed on its way. The U.S.S. Culgoa 
had finally disregarded orders of the commander of the con¬ 
voy not to turn back at S.O.S. signals, and had turned back 
against orders to aid the two sinking ships. The Oosterdyk 
men were taken aboard the Culgoa which kept alongside 
of the disabled San Jacinto going 2 or 3 knots an hour until 
they reached Halifax ten days later, July 19th. All safe — 
except the cat. 


319 



HILL 7 


FIRST LIEUTENANT L. B. McALLISTER 

A page from the diary of First Lieutenant L. B. Mc¬ 
Allister, 167th (Alabama) Infantry, 42nd (Rain¬ 
bow) Division: 

The expected orders came on October 5. That 
night we moved left of Montfaucon to the Valley of 
Exermont, winding our way single file through the 
greatest mass of artillery and supplies ever concen¬ 
trated on any front. 

The officers were taken up front in the morning 
to reconnoiter the ground just captured in the first 
rush on the Argonne by the First Division. What a 
scrap those boys must have had! German and 
American dead everywhere — stench, murder, gas 
clouds, bloated starvation, filth, nausea — far worse 
than the common grave left open to the disintegration 
of the elements. And here we were to carry on — 
to the front — Hill 263, Cote de Chatillon, Landres 
and St. Georges and the last of the famous Kriemhilde 
Stellung line, and well we knew that the enemy would 
not give their well-entrenched lines without our pay¬ 
ing a great price. 

On October 10 we kicked off behind a fairly con¬ 
centrated barrage. The battle was so intense, the 
resistance so stubborn — concentrated machine gun 
fire that was simply terrific; the enemy airplanes 
swooped over our heads raking our lines from a 
height that at times did not exceed 100 feet. How 
we prayed for our airplanes to drive off these gnats of 
320 



HEROES ALL 


the air, and our prayers were unanswered for not an 
Allied plane came near all day. 

I just cannot describe those days — how long — it 
was weeks, it was months, it was years — and yet only 
days, but I say to you that it was eternity in the drawn 
faces of youth that had been called the ‘ flower of our 
country.’ Three times were we repulsed, but the 
hill was taken; and what a task was mine as, in the 
morning, a line, a mighty short line, trudged off — 
the balance of my company. 

We expected to be immediately released. No, we 
must consolidate, we must hold, awaiting the start 
of the next phase. Oh, those four days and nights — 
the dysentery, the latrine pools, the robbing the dead 
for more blankets, and corned willie, mud, filth and 
mess just oozing from every pore. 

It was too much for me. I was sent to the hospital 
on October 22, just six hours before we were taken 
out of the line. Oh, how I hated to leave those boys, 
those wonderful fellows, who, after I had proven my¬ 
self, never, not once, backed up without orders. 


3 21 



HILL 7 


LIEUTENANT WILBUR EICKELBERG 

Among the outstanding records of this group of 
young men who served in France was that of Lieu¬ 
tenant Wilbur Eickelberg, and a tribute to him writ¬ 
ten by Lieutenant Heber Smith appeared in the 
Church Bell, as given below: 

I take this opportunity of paying a tribute to one of our 
boys who went over there and delivered. Many others 
probably did as much, but of Lieutenant Eickelberg I want 
to say a few words of commendation. 

Wilbur enlisted in the Marines as a private a few days 
after war was declared, was sent to France with the first 
Marines and was one of those that stopped the Hun at Cha¬ 
teau Thierry. He saw active service at Soissons, Belleau 
Woods, Argonne, in fact, every engagement the Marines 
were in. He was promoted to a corporal, then sergeant, top 
sergeant, and finally received his commission as second lieu¬ 
tenant. His unit was decorated by the French government. 
I take my hat off to Wilbur; he has delivered! 



HEROES ALL 


LIEUTENANT THOMAS McGOWEN 

The following report comes from another soldier 
friend who again writes very briefly of his wounds in 
France: 

Entered the American Army in August 1917 as second 
lieutenant of field artillery; became attached to the 224th 
Field Artillery, Second French Army, operating to the left 
of Verdun for observation purposes. 

In May, 1918 assigned to E Battery, 76th Field Artillery, 
which had just arrived from the States. After a period of 
training at Coetquidan, France, regiment, as part of the 3rd 
Division, went into action at Chateau Thierry on July 3. 
Removed on July 21 to base hospital No. 27 at Angers, 
France. 

After leaving hospital was assigned to the American 
School of Fire at Saumur, as instructor. In October, 1918 
was assigned to the 313th Field Artillery, 80th Division, 
operating in the Argonne. After armistice remained with 
the above division billeted at Ancy-la-France until sum¬ 
moned to G.H.Q. for duty with the Peace Commission in 
Paris. Ordered home as casual officer latter part of March, 
1919 to begin speaking tour in the United States on behalf 
of the Victory Loan. 

As a student attended the French School of Fire at Fon¬ 
tainebleau and the French Cavalry School at Saumur, 
graduating from both places. Honorable discharge from 
the U. S. Army at Camp Meade, Maryland, May, 1919. 

Lieutenant Thomas McGowen 


3*3 



HILL 7 


LIEUTENANT JACOB REININGA 

Upon request Miss Grace Reininga has given a 
short report of her brother’s service in the World War 
from which the following is quoted: 

Jack received his training at Fort Sheridan, Illinois. He 
was the only man from Oak Park to receive a commission in 
the regular army. He went to Waco, Texas, as second 
lieutenant in the Field Artillery where he spent the winter 
of 1917-18, and in the spring, May, 1918, sailed for France. 

He was made a first lieutenant soon after arriving in 
France and showed himself willing to be exposed to danger 
at all points in his regiment where his services were re¬ 
quired. He suffered gas attacks in the work of the 5th Di¬ 
vision of which he was a member. 

This division advanced nearly twenty miles against the 
enemy’s guns, and during those days Lieutenant Reininga 
showed great willingness, as reported by the officers and 
privates of his company, to take the place of the men at 
their guns of the artillery in relieving them during the long 
sieges. Many times he was sent out under fire to get posi¬ 
tions for the U. S. guns while shells were bursting about 
him. 

He served in the St. Mihiel and Meuse-Argonne battles. 
His division, the 5th, was that division which took Ro- 
magne, where later the great American cemetery was lo¬ 
cated: many bodies of the nearly two thousand battle 
deaths of this division must have been buried at that 
cemetery. 

Letters from privates who knew Lieutenant Reininga 
were full of praise for his gallantry and courage and great 
kindness to the men under him. 

He was honorably discharged in the fall of 1918. Later 

3*4 



HEROES ALL 


he was appointed by the government to help settle claims 
that the German government had against us. He returned 
to America in the spring of 1919. 

From all accounts Jack’s influence throughout his 
service in the World War was inspirationally Chris¬ 
tian, wrote Miss Reininga. 



HILL 7 


THE RECORD OF HARRY OVERSTREET'S 
FAMILY 

“ The ties of family and of country were never 
meant to circumscribe the soul," wrote Channing. 

In attempting to realize the import of the following 
brief but amazing record in Mr. Overstreet’s letter 
which tells of the war service of himself and his four 
sons in France one knows that here is a war record 
not often surpassed in the annals of American his¬ 
tory. They went over ready for any fate and en¬ 
tered any service put before them. In family records 
at least, they are not to be rated under the first of 
any family from our country. 

As one reads of this great service of Mr. Overstreet 
and his four sons in France, one instinctively turns to 
the little mother. She bade them farewell one by 
one as they left for the unknown battle area in France 
where already millions of good and brave men had 
perished. Quietly she endured this tragic experience 
of the war, and her friends, knowing of her calm resig¬ 
nation through this heart-breaking time, find it diffi¬ 
cult to provide a tribute in words for her, which she 
shares with her family. 

We say with the poet truly “ These wars are waged 
by the mothers of men.’’ Finding no word that seems 
adequate to praise my dear friend Mrs. Overstreet, 
the Divine tribute shall be written of her here, even 
though she may have often received it in times past. 
“ Inasmuch as ye have done this ... ye have done 
3^6 



HEROES ALL 


it unto me.” And with reverence is this tribute 
written of her today. 

Oak Park, Illinois 

Dear Mrs. Leach: 

As you say, it has been hard to get any record or 
information from the boys themselves, and although 
I was in France in the Y service from May, 1918, to 
September, 1919, and learned general news of some 
of them, details were scarce. 

Did you know that George was in the same Battery 
E, 1st Illinois Artillery, Captain Henry J. Reilly, in 
Texas, 1916, with two of our sons, Albert P. and 
Harry M. Overstreet? Harry went to France with 
the Ambulance Service in January, 1917, and won the 
Croix de Cuerre at Verdun with the French Army, 
afterwards enlisting in Battery E, 149th F.A. under 
Colonel Henry J. Reilly (who became the major 
general of the 42nd — Rainbow—Division). 
Harry’s brothers, Albert P. and Edward V. K. Over- 
street, were members of this same battery all through 
the A.E.F. service. Ralph M. Overstreet though 
married enlisted at Seattle, Washington, in the fall of 
1917 (volunteer, as were all four), assigned as cap¬ 
tain in Q. M. Dept, in charge of sanitation at Camp 
Lewis until April, 1918, sent to France in command 
of a company, was made a bridge-head officer in 
charge of distributing supplies in the field, was 
wounded and shellshocked through explosion of an 
enemy shell at Chateau Thierry during the July bat- 

3*7 



HILL 7 


tie there; after hospital treatment was assigned to 
Graves Registration Service and cemetery prepara¬ 
tion in the Paris region. Returned to America in 
July, 1919, and spent most of his time for two years in 
hospitals. Has since resided in Henderson and 
Louisville, Kentucky. The time you speak of 
George and Ralph being together in the west, was in 
Seattle, Washington. 

Albert was wounded and gassed in the St. Mihiel 
advance and also in the Argonne Forest. 

Harry was badly gassed in the Argonne just ten 
days before the armistice. 

Edward, the youngest, went through with Battery 
E, 149th F.A., 42nd Division, in the Army of Occu¬ 
pation to Coblenz. 

Yours very sincerely, 

Harry E. Overstreet 


328 



HEROES ALL 


OTHER SOLDIER FRIENDS 

Lieutenant Shipley’s family have other hero 
friends who sailed from the shores of America for 
France ready for any fate in 1917. Among these 
were: 

Dr. Donald Abbott, head of the medical unit of the 
Chicago Presbyterian Hospital. 

Dr. Earle B. Fowler, continually operating at Toul 
upon the eyes, ears and throats of the broken bodies 
brought to him from the battlefields near by. 

Dr. Harold Hulbert, who had heart-breaking experi¬ 
ences caring for the shellshocked and the nerve- 
worn soldiers on shipboard as he brought them to 
the homeland. 

George McClary and Donald Sperry, faithful ambu¬ 
lance officers, the former having been on a tour of 
Europe in 1914. 

Lieutenants Ashley and Norman Smith and my 
nephew, George Allen Shipley who was with the 
35th Engineers in France for a year and a half. 
First Lieutenant Norman Stone and First Lieutenant 
Heber Smith whose division, The Blackhawk, did 
not arrive in France in time for any battle action, 
yet who were there in time to observe France, ex¬ 
hausted after four years of war, cheered and re¬ 
vived by the great Armistice Day. 

And do we not with pride recall the marvelous work 
of our friend of Detroit school days, Wallace At- 
329 



HILL 7 


terbury, who went to France to build railroads for 
the A.E.F., for the transference of troops and 
freight to the battle areas. General Atterbury 
was an outstanding leader of the A.E.F. in bringing 
an end to the World War in 1918. 


330 





















































































































Chaplain J. Austen Lord 
Who buried Lieutenant Shipley 


CHAPTER IV 

SEVEN SHORT STORIES 


THE STORY OF CHAPLAIN LORD 

Great praise is surely the debt the people owe to 
those young soldiers who went over to France in the 
World War. 

Colonel John Buchan of England has given a trib¬ 
ute of praise to the American soldier in his History 
of the Great War. “ America’s effort,” says this bril¬ 
liant historian, “ is one of the most miraculous ex¬ 
ploits in all history. From April, 1917, on, every 
month found hundreds of thousands of American 
boys reaching the shores of France to prepare for war, 
and in eight months two million men had arrived 
there ready to go under fire in the cause of the Allies. 
Moreover, America had shown the most admirable 
generosity and good sense in the use of her forces. 
The presence of these great potential reserves en¬ 
abled Foch to use his seasoned troops boldly, since 
material for replacing them was mounting up 
steadily. 

“ Ludendorff suffered a bitter disillusionment as 
he saw these thousands of fine young Americans pour¬ 
ing into France, but his anxiety for a decisive victory 

33 1 



HILL 7 


was quickened still more by the growing proofs that 
these millions of Americans were brave men. By the 
middle of July the American 3rd Division was fight¬ 
ing not far from Epernay and the Nanteuil-Hautvil- 
lers road. They first checked and then rolled back 
the German wave, taking 600 prisoners. The incon¬ 
ceivable had been brought to pass.” 

In connection with the 3rd Division of American 
troops mentioned by Colonel Buchan, a tribute 
should be given to a chaplain of this division, the 
Rev. J. Austen Lord, a young Methodist minister of 
Crothersville, Indiana. 

“ One of the godlike things in this world is the 
veneration done to human worth by the hearts of 
men,” wrote Carlyle. 

We hear and read of the unknown dead, but there 
are also officers living who might be called “ unknown 
heroes,” and J. Austen Lord should be named among 
these for his work with the 3rd Division, 4th Infantry, 
throughout their service in the war. His work was 
certainly heroic even though it may not have become 
widely known. 

He relinquished his pastorate in Crothersville, 
Indiana, and went as chaplain with the 3rd Division 
upon their entry into the war. He was with that 4th 
Infantry of the 3rd Division as chaplain all through 
their service in the battles of the Marne, St. Mihiel, 
and the Meuse-Argonne. He and his small squad of 
men followed the line in action continuously, them¬ 
selves always under fire, and when his service had 

33* 



SEVEN SHORT STORIES 


ended, the records show that he had buried the re¬ 
mains of nearly 800 American soldiers. He tried 
when possible to give a Christian burial and he also 
tried as far as possible to keep a written record of each 
man, not only for the Infantry’s books but for the 
families at home that he might give as much informa¬ 
tion as possible to those who were inquiring. On his 
28th birthday, which was October 12, 1918, he was 
behind the line as usual. He had written in his diary 
the following few words concerning Lieutenant 
Shipley: “ October 12, 1918. Am feeling very tired 
this morning: have come over behind a tree to write 
a few words of the day. I buried a Lieutenant Ship- 
ley this morning who was a graduate of Dartmouth 
College and had lived in Oak Park, Illinois.” 

Soon after this he and his men were attempting to 
gather a few wounded into one of the shell holes 
near by that they might if possible restore them to 
life. As they were busy at this task a German air¬ 
plane flew over, noted their location, and took it back 
to the German gunners. This was often done, said 
Chaplain Lord; and this time the gunners aimed so 
perfectly at his little crowd that every one was killed 
but himself and one other. They had been soaked 
with mustard gas, however, and lay a day and two 
nights uncared for. At last they found themselves 
able to creep back to Montfaucon, and were carried 
from there to Geddeon, where the base hospital was 
located. To his very great disappointment, Chap¬ 
lain Lord was not able to return to the line, and it 

333 



HILL 7 


was several months before he was well enough to sail 
for America and home. 

Nor have the years overcome the effects of that 
fearful gassing in the Argonne, as this paragraph from 
a very recent letter makes plain: “ Please forgive my 
tardiness in answering. Have been in the hospital 
with an operation and things have been topsy turvy 
here. I have not been preaching for a year now and 
unless my throat improves very soon, I may never be 
able to again. That gas of the Argonne left a terrible 
scar upon every one who had to live thru it. I sup¬ 
pose I will carry mine to the end.” 


334 



SEVEN SHORT STORIES 


THE STORY OF LIEUTENANT 
JAMES D. LIGHTBODY 

There is no such thing as chance, and what seems to us the 
merest accident, springs from the deepest source of destiny. 

— SCHILLER 

There were two men who saw Lieutenant Shipley’s 
first grave where he fell near Nantillois, the chaplain 
and Lieutenant Lightbody, friend from his early 
days as an athlete. 

When he fell, someone took from him the discs for 
identification and his officer’s insignia, in order to 
report his death to the officer in charge of this work. 
Harry Cook’s record came from this report. 

But Chaplain Lord, who buried him on October 
12, and Lieutenant Lightbody, whose duties took 
him to the locality, were so far as we know the only 
two to view this first grave. In his description of dis¬ 
covering the grave of his old friend are illuminating 
facts as to this work of the Intelligence Service in 
which he was a lieutenant. How lightly he passes 
over his task in that dangerous section — “ un¬ 
healthy ” indeed! We count his service in the war 
extraordinary and outstanding for its cool courage. 
He deserves much more of a citation than these pages 
can give him. 

His story of the custom the Germans had of send¬ 
ing their shells over the American hospital at Toul 

335 



HILL 7 


about ten o’clock every Sunday morning is an inter¬ 
esting item. 

He saw many times the headquarters (evacuated!) 
of the German Crown Prince at Montfaucon and re¬ 
lated the fact that the pictures on the walls were real 
works of German art. He wore out four cars in this 
section of war chasms — three Fords and a Cadillac. 

Thirty-eight men served under Lieutenant Light- 
body in this work of discovering the bodies of Ameri¬ 
can soldiers and informing the families how, when 
and where they had perished on this French battle¬ 
field. 

The first grave, located near Nantillois, where 
George fell, was visited by these two men only, but 
after the removal to Romagne where his remains now 
lie, his grave was visited by many friends, and several 
pictures were brought to us. We have used only that 
which shows the grave after the wooden cross had 
been changed for a marble one by the French people. 
Those of my readers who have not been able to visit 
the graves of their friends in France will be interested 
in this view of the marble cross which now marks 
every American grave. 

Lieutenant Lightbody’s account follows: 

The road from Varennes to Montfaucon follows the west 
side of the ridge with a gradual rise. The woods were located 
across the ravine to the east of the road with a ridge about 
three quarters of a mile to the right, the general direction 
being northeast. Montfaucon was the high point of the 
road. As one approached the town, the road forked, one 

336 




Ruins of Nantillois 

Lieutenant Shipley’s objective, near where he jell 












































SEVEN SHORT STORIES 


branch running due east and the other or left fork hooked 
around to the back of the town. Between these two forks 
the ground fell away into a sort of spoon shaped ravine 
with a soggy or marsh effect at the bottom. The ravine ran 
north as I remember it and was edged on the right side by 
woods. A creek originated in the ravine. A German plane 
had been shot down and rested on the wide strip just north 
of the east road. 

On the west side of the ravine and following the road, 
but in the bottom, were several piles of German ammuni¬ 
tion. There were very few trees in this area, if I remember 
correctly. On the road about one and one-half miles north 
of Montfaucon, was the village of Nantillois. 

This ravine was fairly well mussed up and had seen ac¬ 
tion. It was not a very healthy place due to escaping gases 
and chemicals from damaged shells in the dumps. 

A certain New York congressman had made some state¬ 
ments on the floor of Congress regarding a New Yorker. 
Within twelve hours, I received telephonic orders to investi¬ 
gate, contact all company commanders concerned and, if 
killed in action, locate grave, how, when, etc. The Central 
Records office showed serious conflicts. One card showed 
the man to be a member of a New York outfit, located miles 
away from Montfaucon. Another and newer card showed 
him on the company roll of another outfit near Montfaucon 
and, still later, killed in action. As all the outfits concerned 
were on the move I decided to work backwards, as the 
records showed this man as buried near Montfaucon. I 
figured that my orderly and myself could get up, locate, 
examine the grave and return to Toul in ten hours, — the 
roads were bad and jammed — while my office was locating 
the exact location of company billets. This was the reason 
for my going into this sector. 

Instead of a few hours, I was four days in and around 
Montfaucon trying to locate this man. We cross-sectioned 

337 



HILL 7 


every one hundred yards and while thus engaged, I ran 
across George’s grave located near the Nantillois road and 
back of a German ammunition dump, which was about 
fifteen feet long and about five feet high, about one-half 
mile south of the town of Nantillois. 

It is very significant to know that few people were 
ever seen visiting this perilous section after the war. 


338 
































































S.S. Lutetia 




SEVEN SHORT STORIES 


THE STORY OF THE LUTETIA 

In one of George’s last letters home to his mother 
he had placed in a postscript this question: “ We are 
hearing a rumor that the Lutetia, the transport on 
which our division came to France, has been sunk on 
its return voyage. I wonder if it is true or just a 
rumor? ” 

This question provided a very interesting discus¬ 
sion at home, and we were unable to find out the facts 
concerning this boat until after the war was over. A 
friend in the navy, however, kindly undertook to 
discover the answer and after many months he was 
able to get a letter from London that seemed to be 
the solution of the matter and to show that the Lu¬ 
tetia had not perished on its return voyage, as the 
officers of the 79th Division had heard during those 
days in the Argonne battle area. The letter explain¬ 
ing this event follows: 

April 8, 1932 

CHAMBER SHIPPING OF THE UNITED KINGDOM 
28 St. Mary Axe, London, E.C. s. 

Dear Sir: 

With further reference to your letters of the 26th January 
and 10th March we have been in communication with the 
owners of the French steamer “ Lutetia," the Compagnie de 
Navigation Sud Atlantique, 3 Boulevard Malesherbes, 
Paris, as it occurred to us that it might be this vessel to which 
you refer; it could not possibly be the Donaldson vessel " Le- 
titia ” which was purely a hospital ship during the war and 

339 



HILL 7 


used for no other purpose and, as previously advised, was 
lost in Halifax Harbour in September, 1917. There does 
not appear to have been any other vessel of the same name. 

The Compagnie de Navigation Sud Atlantique inform us 
that their “ Lutetia ” was in fact used for the transport of 
American troops in considerable numbers and made a voy¬ 
age leaving Marseilles on the 5th June, 1918, arriving New 
York on the 23rd June. The vessel left New York on the 
10th July and arrived at Brest on the 21st July, 1918. The 
vessel made two similar voyages after that date in August 
and September of that year but was not lost during the war 
and is still in service though at the moment laid up. The 
company is unable however to say whether the 79th Di¬ 
vision of the American army was among the troops carried 
by their vessel, and with that exception this information 
would seem to confirm that it was the “ Lutetia ” transport 
from which the brother of the party for whom you are in¬ 
quiring landed at Brest in July, 1918; but that the informa¬ 
tion they had received from him that the vessel was sunk in 
that year is not correct. 

It is quite probable that the American soldier who lost 
his life during the war, in writing to his mother, may have 
heard of the loss of the “ Letitia,” and not knowing the 
actual date that the vessel was sunk, confused it with the 
transport “ Lutetia.” 

We hope that this is the information you required and 
are glad to have been of service to you. 

Yours faithfully. 

General Manager 


340 



SEVEN SHORT STORIES 


THE STORY OF A QUESTION 

Dr. J. W. G. Ward, one of Chicago’s most notable 
preachers, is a native of England, and for seven years 
before coming to America was pastor of a London 
parish where he had succeeded Dr. G. Campbell 
Morgan. Soon after the beginning of the World 
War, Dr. Ward became a chaplain with the British 
troops. As to the war, he not only saw it through, but 
he thought it through. 

In appealing to Dr. Ward, one appealed to an au¬ 
thority upon the subject. His letter, which follows, 
answers two fundamental questions about the evils 
of war: War is not necessary but does it not seem in¬ 
evitable to the human race? And if so, what then? 
Dr. Ward’s letter deserves to become a classic in 
world war literature. 


October 2 4, 1934 

Dear Madam: 

I can quite understand and sympathize with your 
feelings regarding war. No one who has seen a little 
of it or suffered bereavement through it can be other 
than opposed to it. It is a primitive way of trying to 
settle a dispute. But in the light of the present posi¬ 
tion in world affairs one can plainly see that disputes 
are never settled in that way. There is something 
sinister about the whole proceeding. It begins to 
look as though a skillful game had been and is still 
34i 



HILL 7 


being played by statesmen and armament makers 
into which the various peoples are involuntarily 
drawn. Men then become pawns in that game, with 
consequent suffering and privation all around. 

One’s personal views scarcely affect the issue. I 
am not a pacifist if, by that term, is meant absolute 
nonresistance to the aggressor. I could not take up 
the position of the pacifist. Like Dr. Fosdick, I feel 
that many ministers were used as a means to an end. 
I urged the young men of my church in England to 
join the colors when to do so was entirely voluntary. 
The war commenced in August, 1914, and a month 
later almost every young man in my church between 
18 and 25 had gone. As soon as I could be liberated, 
my church gave me a period of leave of absence to 
go to France, and later gave me absolute freedom to 
take up any service I felt was required of me. I did 
what I could to keep up the morale of the men, believ¬ 
ing as I did that they were truly fighting the cause of 
human freedom. I tried to comfort wounded men 
along the same lines. I believed then, as I still be¬ 
lieve, that the liberty of the human race was en¬ 
dangered by the militarist. Looking back, I am sure 
that their ideals and self-sacrifice could not have been 
mistaken. The very fact that there is a growing 
hatred of these things on the part of right-thinking 
people, that thousands who never felt any personal 
responsibility for the race’s welfare are now deeply 
concerned about it, is proof of that fact. That is 
why the church and the individual are required to do 
342 



SEVEN SHORT STORIES 


all they can to discredit force and to foster friend¬ 
ship between the nations. 

Unhappily, an armed force is still necessary for 
the preservation of liberty. I deplore the need for 
a police force for armed resistance to the criminal. 
I feel that it is lamentable that it should be necessary 
to imprison a fellow being. But I am sane enough to 
see that, as society is at present constituted, it is im¬ 
possible to disband the police department. That 
would simply abandon society to the depredations 
of the gangster. That is, in my opinion, a small scale 
picture of what would happen if some nations were 
completely to disarm and leave other predatory coun¬ 
tries an open field. 

But I am not a militarist. As I have already said, 
to foster strife for national aggrandizement, to use 
force as a means merely for political ends, is repre¬ 
hensible in the extreme. There is, as I see it, nothing 
good that can be said about either war or the war- 
maker. If the truth of what the last war meant could 
have been plainly told and fully comprehended by 
the peoples of the world, they would never permit 
their rulers to pursue such a policy again. Mean¬ 
while, there is a middle course which I have outlined. 
As a nation and as individuals we dare not allow the 
war-maker to go unchecked, but, on the other hand, 
we ought to use every means in our power to create 
a better understanding between the nations, and also 
to prove that war, like crime, never pays. 

J. W. G. Ward 


343 



HILL 7 


A STORY OF WAR MONEY 

It was Pliny who wrote: “ Our youth and man¬ 
hood are due to our country, but our declining years 
are due to ourselves.” 

There were heroes in America during those war 
days who, long past middle age, thought declining 
years did not belong to themselves but to the service 
of their country if needed. Many undertook the 
onerous duty in those days of raising money for the 
waging of this war. 

It is said that the war cost our country during those 
two years a million dollars an hour. How was it se¬ 
cured? Someone had to take the responsibility of 
getting the millions needed during those two years. 
One of those who willingly undertook this great task 
was the chairman of the Metropolitan Committee, 
New York and environs, and he kept faithfully at 
this gigantic work during the five drives for Liberty 
Loans. The committee raised millions (or was it 
billions?) for carrying on the war, because the Metro¬ 
politan area was by far the wealthiest section for this 
war service. 

The chairman to whom we allude was Arthur B. 
Leach of New York and South Orange. Requesting 
him to send an account of this work and the sum 
total raised by him, we received the following report. 
In this Mr. Leach does not give the sum total, but 
says in fact that there are no papers in existence that 
give this figure: 


344 



SEVEN SHORT STORIES 


New York City 

In regard to this war work, there is not a record of any 
kind. The only facts I can give you are: I was appointed 
chairman of what was known as the Metropolitan Commit¬ 
tee, and as chairman of this committee, I created an enor¬ 
mous selling machine in New York City, had one hundred 
and thirty offices, several thousand volunteer workers. We 
had daily and nightly meetings in halls, churches, anywhere 
we could find a place to put an audience. Governor Strong, 
myself and others addressed these audiences — much flag 
waving, emotion, much “ every man must do his bit.” I do 
not know the amounts, but as far as I can recall, we had 
more subscriptions in numbers and I think more subscrip¬ 
tions in amount than any other organization in the country. 
Details are not in existence. 

One other job I undertook was the obtaining of dollar 
subscriptions for the Red Cross, in the State of New Jersey. 
We contacted with almost all of the Red Cross units in the 
state and then had a shock troop of say eight or ten auto¬ 
mobiles, with workers going from town to town. We were 
met perhaps at the entrance to the city by the local workers, 
principally women in Red Cross uniforms. We held meet¬ 
ings in school houses, the city hall, or churches, and there 
would address the people urging upon each individual that 
he subscribe at least for a dollar membership. We addressed 
the school children and the burden of that urge was: “ Boys 
and girls, there is not a single one of you but who can prevail 
upon your father or mother to subscribe one dollar to the 
Red Cross.” We received several thousands of subscrip¬ 
tions. It was a great work carried out in a big way all over 
the state. I spent days and weeks traveling about the state 
with this automobile caravan. 

Another effort was —when the war finally broke out I 
organized a motor cycle troop in South Orange and vicinity. 
I bought the motor cycles and equipment for these men — 


345 




HILL 7 


don’t know how many, but I think I furnished upward of 
one hundred motor cycles. This troop was organized, officers 
appointed, drilled and finally turned over to the State 
Militia at Trenton. Of this activity, there is no record. 

Sorry I cannot give you a more definite and detailed 
account. 

Let me say this — each generation lives and loves and hates 
for itself, forgetful of the doing of its forebears or earlier 
generations. What I did was not with any thought of praise, 
thanks or remembrance and I feel just that way today. 

Arthur B. Leach 

We have in mind other heroes who, no longer 
young, had the right to think their declining years 
might be saved for their own use. For example the 
late William A. Douglass of Oak Park was extremely 
active in the Oak Park work through those five drives. 

It has been said “ responsibility walks hand in 
hand with capacity and power,” and the sums needed 
for our part in the World War were acquired. The 
latest statistics now disclose that the World War cost 
America Twenty Five Billion Dollars! 


346 



SEVEN SHORT STORIES 


THE STORY OF NASSAU HALL 

Among the buildings of colonial times in our 
American history, surely none is more important, 
more picturesque, more romantic than old Nassau 
Hall of Princeton University. It still stands, the 
outer walls quite complete, the interior only being 
changed, its partitions removed so that the walls 
might be covered with the university’s valuable 
paintings. 

Nathaniel Fitz Randolph, nephew and namesake 
of our ancestor, was the donor of the original campus 
at Princeton, twenty acres of ground on old Nassau 
street. After he had presented this tract to the trus¬ 
tees, he began raising the money to build old Nassau 
Hall. He raised what he could in America, and the 
balance of the building fund was given by friends in 
Scotland. This very interesting piece of ground is 
now surrounded by a high iron fence along Nassau 
street and the gates are ornamented with the name of 
Nathaniel Fitz Randolph in bronze letters. These 
gates are never opened except at Commencement or 
when some notable, the President of the United 
States or the Prince of Wales for example, is there to 
visit the university. 

Recently, a descendant living in Philadelphia pre¬ 
sented to the trustees of Princeton a small diary 
Nathaniel Fitz Randolph had kept through those 
most interesting days, and they placed it in the 

347 



HILL 7 


library. A dozen photostatic copies have been made 
of this diary telling the history of the gift and some 
of the donor’s family history. 

In a letter which the daughter of Jonathan Ed¬ 
wards wrote from Princeton, she calls Nassau Hall 
“ the most commodious of any of the Colleges as well 
as much the largest building of any upon the Con¬ 
tinent. There is something very striking in it and a 
grandeur and yet a simplicity that can’t well be 
expressed.” 

Or, as the latest edition of the Encyclopedia Bri- 
tannica has it: 

“ Nassau Hall, the oldest and historically the most 
interesting building on the campus, was at the time 
of its completion in 1756 the largest academic build¬ 
ing in the American colonies. It was designed by 
Robert Smith, architect of Independence Hall in 
Philadelphia, and was named in honour of William 
of Nassau, William III of England. Here in 1783 
General Washington received the formal thanks of 
the American Congress for his conduct of the Revo¬ 
lutionary War.” 

Nassau Hall was the seat of the American govern¬ 
ment for almost a year at the time when its removal 
from Philadelphia, the original capital, became nec¬ 
essary. 


348 



SEVEN SHORT STORIES 


THE STORY OF GOETHE’S “HILL” 

On every mountain height 
Is rest, 

On all the tree-tops 
You can trace 
Scarcely a breath; 

The small birds are silent in the forest. 

Only wait; and soon 
Thou too shalt rest. 

GOETHE 

These lines by Goethe were written when he was 
a youth. He climbed a hill at Ilmenau near Weimar 
and wrote them upon the walls of a chalet at the top. 

On his last birthday, August 29, 1831, fifty-one 
years after composing the verse, he again ascended 
this hill in the forest district of Ilmenau not far from 
Weimar. He had his two young grandsons with him 
and together they climbed the Gickelhahn — no 
great height certainly but something of an achieve¬ 
ment for a man of eighty-two. In the little wooden 
hut at the top, he showed them the lines he had 
written in pencil on one of the boards fifty-one years 
before. The writing, put there in 1780, may still be 
deciphered. 


349 










CHAPTER V 

TREASURED LETTERS 


In response to our brother’s request. Dr. Hopkins wrote the 
following reference for his entrance to the Officers Training 
Camp at Fort Sheridan. 


DARTMOUTH COLLEGE 
Hanover, N. H. 

Offices of Administration 
The President 

February twenty-sixth 

l 9 l 7 

Dear Sir: 

I take great pleasure in giving a word of hearty 
recommendation in connection with the application 
of George Elliott Shipley for enrollment in the Offi¬ 
cers Reserve Corps. 

Mr. Shipley took his college course at Dartmouth 
and was well known here as one of the prominent 
men of his class. He satisfied the requirements of 
the institution scholastically and was prominent in 
athletics, meanwhile maintaining his popularity 
among his classmates socially and having their re¬ 
spect. I think that he is the type of man that is de- 

35 1 



HILL 7 


sirable for such enrollment as the Officers Reserve 
Corps offers. 

Yours very sincerely, 

Ernest Martin Hopkins 
The Commanding General, 

Central Department, U. S. Army, 

Chicago, Ill. 


35* 



TREASURED LETTERS 


A letter of sympathy from Governor Lowden. 

STATE OF ILLINOIS 
Office of the Governor 
Springfield 

March si, 1919 

My Dear Mr. Leach: 

I have learned with deep regret of the death of 
Lieutenant George E. Shipley, and I want to extend 
to you and the other members of his family my heart¬ 
felt sympathy in the great loss you have sustained. 
It must be some consolation to you, however, to know 
that he gave his life in as sacred a cause as the world 
has ever known. 

Illinois feels a great pride in the supreme sacrifice 
he made for humanity. 

Sincerely yours, 

Frank O. Lowden 


353 



HILL 7 


Dr. Hopkins’ letter upon hearing of our brother’s death. 


DARTMOUTH COLLEGE 
Hanover, N. H. 

Offices of Administration 
The President 


February fourteen 

1 9 1 9 

Dear Mr. Leach: 

Upon returning home I find your letter of Janu¬ 
ary 2 4. 

I of course knew George Shipley exceedingly well. 
As a matter of fact he came up from Baltimore and 
asked me to help him to get his assignment abroad, 
in which matter I did all that I could for him because 
of the long time friendship we had had dating from 
the days of his undergraduate course. 

There is no way for me to express my feelings in 
regard to these men who have been representative of 
the College and whom we shall see no more. Among 
the group who have given their lives there are very 
few whom I have known better or shall miss more 
than George. 

I am 


Most sincerely yours, 

Ernest M. Hopkins 


354 



TREASURED LETTERS 


A letter from Mrs. Lounsbury, wife of Capt. Lounsbury for¬ 
merly at Camp Grant, Rockford, Ill. 


Windermere Hotel 
Chicago 

Dear Mrs. Leach: 

May I express my very deepest sympathy to you 
for this great sorrow the war has brought upon you. 
I knew your brother in Rockford and shall always 
cherish the memory of that Thanksgiving Day he 
spent with us. My husband and son are both across; 
Capt. Lounsbury ill with pneumonia in the base 
hospital at St. Nazaire and Ralph on his way into 
Germany. 

So for me the war is not over. 

I can so sympathize with you for I know what it 
means to give up such a splendid brother. Capt. 
Lounsbury, were he here, would indeed join me in 
expressing very deepest sympathy for he too greatly 
admired your brother. Believe me, 

Most sincerely, 

Elizabeth C. Lounsbury 
(Mrs. J. A.) 


355 



HILL 7 


A close friend of Lieutenant Shipley’s in the War Service 
wrote the following: 

December 10, 1919 

611 West 158th St. 

New York City 

Dear Mrs. Leach: 

Here in New York there are many soldiers on the 
streets and many times I have seen men who re¬ 
minded me of George. It will be that way from now 
on, I will be continually meeting boys and men who 
will bring back the recollection of one of the finest 
men and one of the finest friends I may ever hope to 
have, George Shipley. I feel that I knew him per¬ 
haps better than any other of his friends. We grew 
very close to each other during the six months that 
I lived with him there in Chicago. Assuredly I am 
proud of him, proud that he died as he did, fighting 
because he was a real American. 

Very sincerely, 

Glenn W. Tisdale 
(Captain, 331st Field Artillery) 


356 



TREASURED LETTERS 


From his lifelong friend, Captain Frank Templeton. 

Oak Park, Illinois 
June 29, 1919 

Dear Mrs. Leach: 

I thank you from the bottom of my heart for 
George’s picture. Our great friendship extended 
over a good many years without interruption and 
without change. It is too bad George is gone but he 
went in a wonderful way. His picture will be a con¬ 
stant reminder to me of boyhood days, college days, 
and later days that were well spent and well enjoyed. 

Very sincerely 

Frank Templeton 


357 



HILL 7 


From John A. Clarke, a beloved Dartmouth College class¬ 
mate. 


The University Club 
i West 54th Street, 
New York, N. Y. 

Dear Mrs. Leach: 

I can think of no one to whom Kipling's verses 
might have applied better than to dear old George, 
— those lines that go — 

Borne on the breath that men call Death, 

My brother’s spirit came. 

He scarce had need to doff his pride 
Or slough the dross of earth — 

E’en as he trod that day to God 
So walked he from his birth, 

In simpleness and gentleness and honour and clean mirth. 

These for George, one of the best friends I ever 
had. 

Sincerely yours, 

John A. Clarke 


358 



TREASURED LETTERS 


From Dr. George N. Luccock, his pastor for many years in 
Oak Park. 


THE COLLEGE CHURCH 
Westminster 

George N. Luccock, Minister 
Wooster, Ohio 

January 27, 1919 

Dear Mr. Leach: 

We can understand how sore will be your sorrow. 

And yet it is a sorrow mingled with comfort and 
pride. I believe he is the only member of our Oak 
Park Church so far reported to have given his life 
in the great Cause. Douglas Mott was a member of 
the S.S. and belonged to one of our church families, 
and so was one of us. George’s star will be preemi¬ 
nent in its golden hue, on the service flag embracing 
church communicants. It is indeed hard to have a 
life cut off on the threshold of its career, but if one 
must die in early manhood it is glorious to die in the 
service of humanity. How proud the mother who 
bore him has a right to feel over that service! Upon 
the memory of his young manhood there rests an 
enduring crown. 

With affectionate regards to you all, in which Mrs. 
Luccock warmly joins, I am, 

Yours sincerely, 

Geo. N. Luccock 


359 



HILL 7 


Dr. Frank W. Gunsaulus, a boyhood friend of Lieutenant 
Shipley’s father in Chesterville, Ohio, wrote the following to 
George’s older brother upon reading the account of Lieu¬ 
tenant Shipley’s death. 


ARMOUR INSTITUTE OF TECHNOLOGY 
Chicago, Illinois 
F. W. Gunsaulus, President 

December 1, 1919 

My dear Mr. Shipley: 

With a good deal of emotion and tender affection 
and sympathy for you, I have read this most interest¬ 
ing manuscript concerning Lieutenant George E. 
Shipley. 

Oh, I thought of the old Ohio and Morrow County 
associations, and praised God for the good blood that 
has gone into the world’s veins through such ancestry. 
You certainly must be proud to have such a contri¬ 
bution made through your brother to the life and 
hope of the world. 

Faithfully yours, 

F. W. Gunsaulus 


360 



TREASURED LETTERS 


Letter from Mrs. W. R. Vosburgh, a friend of Lieutenant 
Shipley’s family. 


321 South Grove Avenue 
Oak Park, Illinois 

Dear Mrs. Leach: 

I have felt the lack of ability to say anything that 
could be of any comfort to you. You know the help 
that religion gives in time of trouble and I do not 
need to point out that, and I know too how proud 
and glad you are that if George must go it should be 
as he did, fighting for the ideals of his country. 

I remember him so happy and proud and young 
the last time I saw him that summer in Douglas; in 
his uniform he was so good looking and so happy. 
I shall always think of him that way. 

But even tho I cannot say comforting words I can 
assure you of our tenderest sympathy and that I do 
for both Mr. Vosburgh and myself. 

Very sincerely yours, 

Annie J. Vosburgh 

February the eighth 


361 



HILL 7 


DARTMOUTH CHAPTER 

OF 

ALPHA DELTA PHI 
Hanover, N. H. 

January 26, 1919 

Whereas, it has pleased God in His infinite wisdom 
to take from this life our Brother, George E. Shipley, 
of the class of 1908 of Dartmouth College, and 
Whereas, by his death we lose an esteemed and be¬ 
loved Brother, 

Resolved, that we, the members of the Dartmouth 
Chapter of Alpha Delta Phi, do hereby express our 
sorrow at his death and do extend to his family our 
sincere sympathy, and 

Resolved, that a copy of these resolutions be pub¬ 
lished in “ The Dartmouth ” and filed in the records 
of the chapter. 

For the Chapter, 

Hugh M. McKay 
Corresponding Secretary 


362 



TREASURED LETTERS 


CASQUE AND GAUNTLET 


Office of the Secretary 
151 Manthorne Road 
West Roxbury, Mass. 

April 14, 1919 


My dear Mrs. Shipley: 

Accept my deepest sympathy in your loss and feel 
assured that Casque 8c Gauntlet is proud that it can 
look upon the name of George Shipley as one of the 
Knights worthy of the name. 

Yours sincerely, 

Earle H. Pierce 


363 



HILL 7 


CASQUE AND GAUNTLET 
In Memoriam 
Lieutenant George Shipley 

Whereas, God in His infinite wisdom has seen fit to 
remove from earthly sufferings our brother 

Lieutenant George Shipley 

be it 

Resolved, that we, representing the Alumni and Ac¬ 
tive Members of the Order of Casque and Gauntlet, 
hereby express our profound sorrow and deep regret 
at what, from every human point of view, seems the 
untimely taking off of a man in the strength of ripen¬ 
ing manhood, and who gave promise of long years 
crowned with honor among his fellowmen, for whom 
he made the supreme sacrifice in the great war, and 
be it further 

Resolved, that we take consolation to ourselves and 
shall endeavor to extend it to others, even nearer and 
dearer to him by family ties, for the striking down 
of a strong man, in the thought that his adventurous 
enterprise truly set forth the daring shown by the 
Knights of olden times, and be it further 
Resolved, that these resolutions be spread upon the 
records of this society and a copy be sent to the family 
of our late* brother. 

Given at the annual meeting of the Alumni of the 
Order of Casque and Gauntlet, in the City of Boston, 

364 



TREASURED LETTERS 


this twenty-first day of March, in the Year One- 
Thousand-Nine-Hundred-and Nineteen. 

Edmund J. Shattuck To 
Lawrence H. Bankart To 
Earle H. Pierce To 


365 



HILL 7 


Mrs. Addison Gardner, Jr. was the first friend of our 
family to visit George’s grave at its first location in Romagne. 
Her letter, which follows, was the first to contain a picture 
of the grave. With what emotion did we read this letter 
which told us of the grave, and look upon a picture of it 
so far away in France. 

Many friends have visited it since and have written us and 
graciously sent us pictures and we hereby thank them one 
and all for their great thoughtfulness and kindness in so 
doing. 


Micklem Hall 
Oxford, England 
Aug. 7, 1920 


Dear Mrs. Leach: 

Before my days become overcrowded with more 
experiences I want to write you of the time I spent 
in France. When this trip was first planned I had no 
intention of going on the continent at all because of 
the discouraging reports of all kinds of hardship 
and inconvenience of tourists. However, through 
Mother’s insistence we were finally persuaded to go 
over to France and make the effort to go at least over 
the battle-fronts near Paris and Reims. Upon our 
arrival in Paris we met friends who had taken the 
entire three day trip over the French and American 
fronts and they said that we must by all means take 
the whole trip. The experience of that three days I 
shall never forget; had I been on this side and not 

366 





































































French Peasants Making Garden 
Taken at foot of Montfaucon, in 1920 




TREASURED LETTERS 


visited that country I should have missed a great 
opportunity not to say a duty. It is bound to be a 
lesson to a young person like me to see the heart- 
sickening destruction of the French villages and 
farms and then to see with what indomitable courage 
the people come back and rebuild on the ruins which 
in many cases are no more than heaps of plaster and 
rubbish. Our first day included Reims itself and the 
battlefields thereabout, the second day we went thru 
the Argonne which I know holds particular signifi¬ 
cance for you. I knew that George Shipley lost his 
life in the Argonne, so I inquired in the office of the 
Romagne Cemetery and found his grave. I think 
it may be a little comfort to you to have someone tell 
you of it who has been there. I took a picture and 
I want to come and see you and tell you whatever I 
can when I get home. You probably know all about 
the cemetery but in case you do not I shall try to tell 
you a little although it seems difficult to describe. 
There are twenty-one thousand American men lying 
there. Each grave has a snow white wooden cross 
with the name and service inscribed. In the middle 
of the cemetery is a beautiful American flag which 
can be seen some distance away. The hills of the 
Argonne and Montfaucon are in the background. 
This attempt at a description seems hopelessly inade¬ 
quate but I hope I can tell you more about it. Most 
of all I hope you will have an opportunity to see it. 
I am sure you would feel a great comfort in seeing it. 
Really I cannot attempt to relate our experience on 

367 



HILL 7 


this trip. It is one of the great things that are too 
overpowering to be put into words. I have not tried 
to write about it to anyone — but I felt that I must 
at least let you hear right away of the part of my 
pilgrimage which I know is very near to you. 

As you see we are now in Oxford and will go from 
here to the Lakes and then back to Sir William 
Mathew’s until September eighth which is now the 
date of our sailing. 

Devotedly, 

Sylvia * 


Now Mrs. Addison Gardner, Jr. 

368 



TREASURED LETTERS 


Mr. Harry W. Austin in the following letter describes the 
first location of the grave of Lieutenant Shipley in Romagne. 


Hotel D’Harscamp 

Namur, Belgium 
July 29, 1921 

Dear Ferry: 

I saw George Shipley’s grave today. On the back 
of the paper I send is an exact copy of what is on the 
grave marker. The grave is exceptionally well 
located. Right in the center of the cemetery in the 
section next the flag and on the corner of the walk. 
They would not allow me however to take a picture 
of the grave, as bodies are now being removed. 
There were 21,000 bodies there and 10,000 have 
been taken away. When they get thru with removals 
they will take the bodies from other cemeteries to 
this one and make probably as fine a national ceme¬ 
tery as they have in America. Were this my own case 
I would leave him here. Out of four boys I was in¬ 
terested in, three of them (all Alpha Delts) are still 
here. One of them, my cousin, nephew of F. C. 
Austin, was taken out for shipment to Kansas City 
three weeks ago. 

Sincerely 

H. W. Austin 


369 






CHAPTER VI 

TRIBUTES 


LLOYD GEORGE’S TRIBUTE TO CHICAGO 
SOLDIERS OF THE WORLD WAR 

Lloyd George, War Premier of England, came on 
a tour to the United States in 1923, and in Chicago 
in an address given before twelve thousand citizens 
he told the following: 

“ Chicago Wins the War.” 

The little Welshman told how Chicago soldiers 
saved the situation at Amiens without orders from 
their superior officers. 

When but 200 yards from Amiens, the Germans 
would have won the war, the Chicago boys saved the 
Allied lines by going in without orders to help the 
Australians. 

To quote from the Chicago Tribune: 

I first met Chicago behind Amiens, continued Lloyd 
George. Perhaps I should not tell this — it has never been 
told before. It was March, 1918, and I, a poor premier, try¬ 
ing to see what was wanted at the front, found that Germany 
was about to win the war. 

Two hundred yards more and Germany would have 
Amiens, would split the French and British armies and then 
— I need not say. A division of Australians was ready to 
go against the German spearhead that night. Chicagoans 
were stationed behind the lines with them. 

" We're going in to fight tonight, come on along,” said 
the Aussies to the Americans. 

37 » 



HILL 7 


“ We can’t; we have orders not to fight yet,” was the 
answer. 

The Australians were fine fighters but not so good on 
obeying orders, and they kidded the Americans about their 
attitude. The Americans went in despite — or without — 
orders. With the Australians they turned back the Huns 
when victory was 200 yards away. I asked the German pris¬ 
oners about your boys the next day and one answered: 
“ They’re good fighters, but too rough.” 


37 * 



TRIBUTES 


GENERALISSIMO FOCH’S TRIBUTE TO 
THE A. E. F. 

To the American Legion, in convention assem¬ 
bled, Cleveland, Ohio: My heart is with them at the 
moment of the second anniversary of the fighting 
they went through by the side of the Allies for the 
common cause of right and liberty. I again render 
homage to the valor and to the tenacity which they 
unceasingly showed on the battle fields of France; in 
the days of misfortune and the days of success; the 
magnificent enthusiasm with which they answered 
our call; the great part they took in the sacrifices of 
war; the glorious remembrance of those who fell on 
our soil will remain a token of the profound grati¬ 
tude and the indestructible union of our two 
countries. 


373 



HILL 7 


THE LAST WORD 

As the last page of this narrative is being written, 
it is the sixth of April, in the year 1935. The lost 
horizon is hidden with black war clouds once again 
after so many years, on this the eighteenth anniver¬ 
sary of America’s entrance into the world war. 

But now, how changed! America can scarcely 
protect her own shores. What great debts must be 
incurred to do even that! We must leave to their 
own fate our friends in Europe, they must work out 
their own safety, America must stand off! 

It is Admiral Sims who is now declaring that peace 
depends upon education, the peace of the world. I 
would add to his words “ It depends upon religious 
education.” It is not the enemy but the enmity that 
must be attacked. 

The whole world must fervently unite in that 
great prayer recently recorded for a world prayer, 
“ O God, scatter upon the face of the earth, all those 
who instigate war.” Amen and Amen. 

THE END 


374 




The French Tribute 





























































































INDEX 

Part I 

DEDICATION. 5 

ACKNOWLEDGMENT. 7 

CONTENTS . 9 

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS .... 11 

PRONUNCIATIONS. 12 

JUST A WORD. 13 

THE HILL. 14 

AN EXPLANATION. 15 

AN INTRODUCTION. 17 

SEVEN HILLS. 23 

HILL 1 . 29 

A HOUSE TOP IN OLD DETROIT - Story of 
George’s infancy — George’s ancestry — Middleham 
Castle. 

HILL 2 . 41 

A SAND DUNE IN MICHIGAN - Sleigh-riding 
fifty years ago — Daniel Burnham, Sr. — The death 

375 














INDEX 


of George Shipley, Sr. — Oak Park — Mrs. Wright’s 
lines on Oak Park and River Forest — Picnics in 
River Forest — A German of Oak Park — Alan 
Winslow — The wildflowers in Michigan — James 
Fenimore Cooper —The Iroquois disaster. 

HILL 3.61 

HAPPY HILL AT DARTMOUTH - George’s 
athletic days — St. Louis track meet — Letters from 
Dartmouth — The Dartmouth magazine on moun¬ 
tain climbing — Pike’s Peak. 

HILL 4.77 

PIKE’S PEAK — The shirt of blood — Letters from 
Texas camps — Hospital experience — At Butler 
Brothers — Fort Sheridan — Camp Grant — Fare¬ 
well to Chicago — Camp Johnston in Florida — 

The trip to Baltimore. 

HILL 5.113 

ARLINGTON — Viewing Washington — Letters 
from Camp Meade — George’s delight in Camp 
Meade — Seeing Washington — Philadelphia — At¬ 
lantic City — Annapolis — April 6 in Baltimore on 
parade — His family’s visit — Letter from Hoboken 
— Mt. Kisco — Cables on arrival in France — Let¬ 
ter on the submarine dinner. 

HILL 6.147 

LANGRES — Brest — Paris — Sightseeing trips — 

Camp at Langres, France — Letters from France — 

The war studied from August 3 in 1914—15—16—17— 

18 — Last letter to the author — The French Guide 
to Langres — Going north — Barleduc — Varennes 
— Domremy — Verdun — Vaux — St. Mihiel. 

376 







INDEX 


HILL 7.185 

MONTFAUCON — Two last letters — Montfau- 
con described — Geddeon — General Pershing — 
Souilly — The Town Hall of Souilly — Marching 
to the trenches — The ground on which the Ar- 
gonne was fought — The story of Prinzip — About 
the A.E.F. planes — Taking Montfaucon — Story of 
munitions — Letter of Capt. Gillette—Describing 
the Argonne battle — The 3rd Division — The 
79th Division — The 1st Division — Tribute of the 
captured German officer — Brief mention of a few 
other Divisions of the A.E.F. — General Pershing’s 
order to Sedan — Letter by Shipley Thomas de¬ 
scribing the entrance of the A.E.F. into Sedan by 
the 1st Division — Whittier’s poem in honor of 
Thomas Shipley — First letter of Chaplain J. Aus¬ 
ten Lord — Letter of Thomas Moran — Letters 
from officers of Company B — Lieutenant Light- 
body — George’s farewell to his motorcycle — Gen¬ 
eral Pershing at the Chicago S.A.R. meeting — Re¬ 
port of Harry Cooke, ex-Personnel Officer, 3rd Di¬ 
vision. 


Part II 

CHAPTER I.285 

MY OWN REFLECTIONS UPON WAR 

CHAPTER II.295 

THE MEMORIAL SERMON OF DR. VAN- 
DER MEULEN 

CHAPTER III.313 


HEROES ALL —Captain Kingman Douglass — 
First Lieutenant William Vail —Captain Ship- 

377 







INDEX 


ley Thomas — Lieutenant Herbert S. Ullmann, 
U.S.N.R. — First Lieutenant Lester McAllister — 
Lieutenant Wilbur Eickelberg — First Lieutenant 
Jacob Reininga — Lieutenant Thomas McGowen — 

The Overstreet Family of five in Service — and 
other friends. 

CHAPTER IV.331 

SEVEN SHORT STORIES - Chaplain Lord- 
Lieutenant Lightbody — The Lutetia — The Story 
of a Question — A Story of War Money — The 
story of Nassau Hall — Goethe’s Hill. 

CHAPTER V.351 

TREASURED LETTERS - President Hopkins 
of Dartmouth — Governor Lowden of Illinois — 
President Hopkins of Dartmouth — Captain 
Lounsbury’s family — Captain Tisdale — Captain 
Frank Templeton — John Clarke — Doctor Luc- 
cock — Doctor Gunsaulus — Mrs. Vosburgh — 

Alpha Delta Phi — Casque and Gauntlet Society — 

Sylvia Sears (Gardner) — Harry Austin. 

CHAPTER VI.371 

TRIBUTES — By Lloyd George to Chicago sol¬ 
diers — By General Foch to the A.E.F. 

THE LAST WORD.. . 374 

INDEX.375 

BIBLIOGRAPHY. 379 


378 









BIBLIOGRAPHY 


The Biography of the late Marshal Foch, by Major- 
General Sir George Aston. 

1959 , The Macmillan Co., New York 

Field-Marshal Earl Haig , by Brigadier-General 
John Charteris. 

1929, Charles Scribner’s Sons, New York 

Memories and Records, by Lord Fisher. 

1930, George H. Doran Co., New York 

War Memoirs of David Lloyd George, 4 vols. 

1933, Little, Brown 8 c Co., Boston 

The Life and Letters of Walter H. Page, by Burton J. 
Hendrick, 2 vols. 

1922, Doubleday, Page 8 c Co., New York 

The Crucifixion of Liberty, by Alexander Kerensky. 

1934, The John Day Co., New York 

Heading for the Abyss, by Prince Lichnowsky. 

1928, Payson 8 c Clarke, Ltd., New York 

Ludendorff’s Own Story, 2 vols. 

1919, Harper 8 c Brothers, New York and London 

Life of Jonathan Edwards, by Arthur Cushman 
McGiffert, Jr. 

1932, Harper 8 c Brothers, New York and London 

379 



BIBLIOGRAPHY 


The Theory of Evolution: An Inquiry, by Nathan G. 
Moore. 

1931, The Lakeside Press, Chicago 

Life of Ambassador Myron T. Herrick, by Col. T. 
Bentley Mott. 

1939, Doubleday, Doran 8c Co., Inc., New York 

Goethe — Man and Poet, by Henry W. Nevinson. 

1932, Harcourt, Brace 8c Co., New York 

Our Greatest Battle, by Frederick Palmer. 

1919, Dodd, Mead 8c Co., New York 

My Experiences in the World War, by John J. Per¬ 
shing, 2 vols. 

1931, Frederick A. Stokes Co., New York 

Memories, by Lord Redesdale, 2 vols. 

E. P. Dutton Sc Co., New York 

The History of the A . E. F., by Shipley Thomas. 

1920, George H. Doran Co., New York 

The Broken Soldier by Dr. Henry van Dyke. 

1919, Charles Scribner’s Sons, New York 

Life of LaFayette, by Brand Whitlock, 2 vols. 

1929, D. Appleton 8c Co., New York 

British Weekly 

London Times 

Oak Leaves, Oak Park, Ill. 

















9 



















